


Kindling

by Elveny



Series: Spark of Hope [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A New Start, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, Dalish Origin, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Origin Story, Original Character Death(s), Pre-Canon, Pre-Canon Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Prequel, The Blight (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-10-13 07:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17483636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elveny/pseuds/Elveny
Summary: Lyssa is a young city elf living in Denerim's alienage and still a child when her magic surfaces. Her family decides to hide her from the templars. But when the Blight comes, and only Lyssa and her mother are left, they flee Denerim to find the Dalish...





	1. Life and Loss

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Inquisitor's origin story, spanning the time before she becomes a part of the Inquisition. The next part of this series will take us into the events of Dragon Age Inquisition and fill in the parts that I felt needed fleshing out - and of course will take us deep into Solavellan hell ;) I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> I cannot thank my beta readers Colin and Eluvianess enough for their tireless work; both in correcting my language errors and nudging me in the right direction. I love you heaps. ♥

The thing Lyssa remembered most vividly about her childhood was the smell of honeycomb cake.

Her mother Darina had always made it on birthdays, a rare and treasured treat, served only in the evenings in the warm candlelight, when darkness smoothed the harsh edges of their tiny home. Then, the rich, sweet smell of honey and cinnamon filled every corner of the small, cramped room, Lyssa shared with her parents and her three brothers, and for one whole night, the warm taste of freshly baked cakes chased away every thought of poverty or hunger. The little house was situated in a side alley of Denerim’s alienage, one of the smaller ones that seemed to cower next to the looming wall separating them from the humans. Life in the city was hard, but her parents tried their best to shield their children from the worst of it. The lack of space never bothered the children who were playing outside most of the time, anyway. And their mother had a skill for making the home warm and special, even though they lived in absolute poverty. Potted plants grew on every window sill and in big pots in front of their house where Darina grew a few vegetables and herbs for cooking and healing, and she always found a colorful ribbon for them to braid in their hair. Their father Gereon sometimes brought a broken toy he’d fished out of the trash at his employer’s which he’d fix up to give to them.

Lyssa was a shy, but cheerful child, eager to learn. From an early age, she helped her mother with her tiny herb garden, joined her in making tinctures and salves and paid close attention when her mother dressed a wound. Darina was no official healer, but she knew her way around a body and injuries well enough to be asked for help by neighbors now and then, helping with childbirth or nursing someone back to health in exchange for a little money or a loaf of bread or whatever the other families could spare. Soon, Lyssa lent her a hand, silent from the background, her bright green eyes wide as she drank in all the knowledge she could gather.

She could still remember the day when it all changed.

~ ~ 

It had been spring, shortly after her sixth birthday. Lyssa was playing outside with the twins, building a small town made of rocks and leaves and sticks as a home for the wooden toy pony Father had given her for her birthday. Delon and Lanian had abandoned the towers they wanted to make to chase each other around, screaming and laughing in the first truly warm sunshine that finally had managed to climb the wall. Lyssa was humming to herself as she galloped her pony around the small houses, the sun waking a warm and cozy feeling inside of her.

“Lanian, can I have the stones from your tower?” she called over to her younger brother.

“No! I still need it!” he screamed in protest and ran over to her, his little face full of indignation.

“Oh come on, please?” Lyssa pleaded. “You’re not playing with it anyway! And I need a stable for Pony.”

Lanian pouted, and Delon joined them, his cheeks red from their chase around the alley. “Take mine, Lys,” he said good-naturedly and tugged at his brother’s arm. “Come, Lanian, first one to the venadahl wins!”

Lanian’s eyes brightened. “I’m first!” he called and ran away, Delon following closely on his heels, shrieking, “Wait! That’s unfair!”

Lyssa quickly stretched her hand out towards Delon’s tower before he could get back and change his mind, the warm feeling inside her flaring up without her knowing what it meant. The tower collapsed, and a pebble flew into her hand.

For a second, she didn’t move. Lyssa stared in wonder at the pebble in her palm, then back to the collapsed tower. Tentatively, she put her hand out again and another stone flew into it. A small, delighted smile curved her lips as her curiosity grew. She tried to make another stone fly towards her, tapping again into that warm, beautiful feeling somewhere inside of her. It felt as if a small spark had awakened, dancing inside her and Lyssa laughed as another pebble came… and another. She made them dance, and her eyes shone when they started to float in front of her. The world around her was forgotten as she clapped her hands in delight.

Just when she was about to try and make her whole little town float, a shriek from her mother startled her.

“Lyssa!” Darina called, her voice shrill with shock. Lyssa gave such a start that all the pebbles and stones and wood huts, the whole little town she had built, exploded away from her. She realized her elder brother Tarion was standing not far from her, staring in horror. Then, before she could understand what was happening, her mother scooped her up and raced her inside, not even bothering to dry her daughter’s hot, frightened tears.

Lyssa couldn’t understand her mother’s shock at what had been for her such a beautiful, warm feeling, nor why she wasn’t allowed to go out for the next days. She was afraid that she had done something wrong, that she was punished for scaring Tarion or for destroying the towers the twins had built, but when she tried to apologize, her mother just said she hadn’t done anything wrong. But still, she wasn’t allowed outside, and her questions remained unanswered. Delon and Lanian didn’t understand what was happening, either, and tried to cheer Lyssa up by bringing her random things from outside. It didn’t help much. The heated discussions that followed, the fear in both her parents’ and Tarion’s eyes were a nightmare Lyssa couldn’t comprehend. Then, one evening not long after, her parents sat down with her to explain what was happening while Tarion was outside with the twins.

“We don’t want to scare you, little one,” said her father softly. “But what you did was magic. Do you know what that means?”

Lyssa nodded, her eyes large and full of tears. She had seen the templars take away her neighbor after he had accidentally frozen the fountain in the market just a few months back. He had been eight, and he had looked very small and frightened in the templars’ firm grip as they had taken him away. His parents had become withdrawn and silent ever since. The boy had been their only child.

“Do you want to go to the templars to learn with other mages?” Gereon asked, adding, “It might be fun. You would be in the Circle and I hear they have a lot of books.” Her father stroked her blond hair but his smile was forced. Lyssa stared at her parents. She wanted more of the warm, fiery feeling and the idea of books and learning was tempting, but going away from home was scary. For a moment she thought about it.

“Can’t I go learn during the day and come home afterwards?” she asked, but since she hadn’t seen her neighbor again, she wasn’t surprised at the answer her father gave her.

“No, little one. It’s too far away. The Circle isn’t here in Denerim; it’s a long journey away.”

“But I could come visit, right?” There was a hint of urgency in Lyssa’s voice that made tears well up in her mother’s eyes who quickly wiped them, shaking her head.

“No, they… say it is too dangerous,” she admitted. “You could never come back. But you would get another family.”

Lyssa stared at her with wide eyes. Another family? But who would then come with her mother to take care of the plants and help with the healing? The twins were still too young, and Tarion had just started learning with Father.

“I don’t want another family!” she exclaimed, shaking her head fiercely, and snuggled closer to her father. He closed his arms around her, as she added, “I want to stay here. Can I please stay?” Her voice sounded scared and forlorn.

“Of course, my sweetheart,” her mother said immediately, joining in their embrace. But Lyssa could hear the tears in Darina’s voice.

“We will try to protect you,” her father murmured against her hair, keeping her close. For a long while, they stayed like this, just holding each other. Then, her mother sighed and sat up straight to look Lyssa in the eye. She was very calm and serious as she said, “You can never use your magic outside, all right? Can you promise us that?”

Lyssa nodded, even though she didn’t quite understand what it meant. But she knew that she never wanted to leave here. And so she did what they asked, and kept the little spark inside her hidden, only using it whenever it grew so strong that she felt it would bubble over. A little bit here, a little bit there, never outside, never in view of others. And it worked.

She mostly made the fire, stoking it here and there, trying to dim it until it nearly died just to bring it back to life. There were accidents of course, like the one time where she made the table crack along the middle, breaking straight in half when she got angry, but nothing that they couldn’t handle. The secret of Lyssa’s magic knitted the family even closer together, and even the twins understood how vital it was to never talk about it. Lyssa stayed inside most of the time, watching the people outside from a window. She made a game out of trying to read what they were feeling and thinking beyond whatever they were saying and after a few years, she had learned to read people’s faces like the one book she owned. Lanian and Delon especially often complained about how she always knew when they lied or tried to sneak out. That Lyssa herself was completely unable to hide her own feelings, however, was a constant source of delight for them when they teased her or argued with her.

~ ~ 

For several years, everything seemed fine. The curious questions of their neighbors at how much Lyssa now stayed inside died down after a few weeks, and after a while, they started to believe the tales of her being too shy and quickly overwhelmed by too many people. The fact that she had been content by herself even before her magic surfaced helped convince other people, and if anyone was suspicious that it wasn’t entirely true, they didn’t show it. Lyssa still went out to play sometimes or accompanied her mother, but after a while, she got used to being indoors most of the time. She took care of whatever chores had to be done, easing her parents’ workload. She wasn’t lonely - her brothers made sure of that - and her ability to glean scandals and small truths from watching the people around her never ceased to amaze them. Her mother continued her work as a maid during the day and healer by night, making honeycomb cake for birthdays and special occasions while also teaching Lyssa and the twins whatever she could of her art and knowledge. From the baking of the cakes to the setting of bones and caring for the sick, she talked in detail about the things she did when called upon. Whenever she could, Lyssa still joined her mother when she went to aid the sick or injured, but only if she knew the spark within her was small and silent. More often, it was Delon who went with Darina, while Lanian stayed behind with Lyssa and told her about the things he had learned from Elder Valendrian. He shared her enthusiasm for knowledge and delighted in talking about everything he found interesting. Her father taught Tarion all the carpentry he knew, and he proved so apt at the craft that he was soon helping out at the workshop where Gereon was employed. Tarion replaced the desk that Lyssa had cracked and brought her little wooden puzzles he created to occupy her mind. Everything seemed to work out just as they hoped. Lyssa’s tenth, then eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth birthdays came and went without her being discovered as a mage, and they had learned how to live without fear, if not without vigilance.

Then, an outbreak of the measles came to the alienage and shortly after the gates were closed, to their own house. At first, it was only tiredness and then a persistent, dry cough her father had, then the twins started complaining about headaches. Then the fever came, and the red spots appeared. Not two weeks later, her father stopped breathing just when he seemed to get better. Lanian died two days after him, just after Lyssa had changed his leg compresses and Delon followed his twin mere hours later. Lyssa was too shocked and exhausted to even cry. Her mother had barely slept while she had tried her best to nurse her loved ones back to health, but as she pulled the blanket above her youngest’s face, something within her seemed to have died as well. But when she looked at Lyssa and Tarion, she seemed to gather her strength. The disease had taken many lives in the alienage, and they were never alone in their grief. Tarion was nearly 16 now and had learned enough to fill his father’s spot at the workshop where he had worked. And so they carried on, slowly learning to live in a home that now seemed too big with their family cut in half.

~ ~ 

It was in the spring two years later that they heard the first rumors of a Blight. Within weeks, the rumors grew to facts and one day, guards came and took Tarion and several other able-bodied young men and women from the alienage to fight in the war against the Blight, whether they wanted to or not. But Tarion never even made it to the field, they told Darina not a fortnight later. Some human, they said, had accidentally killed him during training. But from the way the soldier said it, Lyssa doubted it was accidental. With Tarion, another beloved one was gone.

Suddenly, despite the summer, everything was cold.

As the door closed behind the soldier, Lyssa turned towards her mother, her hands pressed against her mouth in an attempt to keep the sobs in. But what she saw in Darina’s face was nothing like the burning grief she felt within herself. Her mother’s face was nearly expressionless, empty. With a half-stumble, she managed to find a chair, then she sank down and just stared at the wall. For the first time in her life, Lyssa saw the fire in the hearth go out as her mother lost herself in her despair. And she continued to stay this way for a whole day, not reacting to anything, just staring, a blank expression on her thin face framed by the dark hair that had started greying when Lyssa’s father and the twins had died. Lyssa tried in vain to console her, to make her talk or at least to listen but when her mother reacted to nothing she said or did, she stopped. Tears burned in her eyes as she stared out the window, watching the guard go to one door after another. He seemed tired, but there was something cold, detached about him as he brought news of another dead elf to their family. Lyssa bit her trembling lip to keep the tears at bay as she idly wondered why he even bothered to do this when the people he talked about so clearly didn’t matter to him. To anyone outside the alienage. The thought woke a wave of old, futile anger and with a defeated look on her face, she turned from the window when he finally turned towards the big gate separating the alienage from the humans. She had seen his relief to be able to leave only too clearly in the sagging of his shoulders, the unclenching of his jaw. All those little signs so few others seemed to see.

 

When darkness fell, her mother still hadn’t moved a muscle. In a last attempt to get her to react, Lyssa had prepared a little meal with the fresh bread she had been baking before the news had come, and the first vegetables from their little garden. She had even added the last of their sugared strawberries, a treat they had been indulging in after receiving the first letter from Tarion a few days ago. But Darina just stared ahead, her eyes dead and her mouth slack. “Mama,” Lyssa whispered, kneeling in front of her, her hands clasped around her mother’s. “Mama, please. Say something?”

Her words fell onto deaf ears, and after a while, Lyssa gave up, put a shawl around her mother’s shoulders, then went to bed to cry. Sometime in the night, she fell into an uneasy sleep that was touched by nightmares and temptations, the tears only slowly drying on her face. When she woke the next morning just before dawn, her mother was already packing. The food was still untouched on the table, but at least she was moving. Lyssa sat up with a relieved sigh, but when she saw her mother’s face, the worry came back. Darina was pale, with a determined, nearly feverish look in her eyes. There were dark shadows beneath her blue eyes, and her mouth had the angry line she usually only showed when she was furious.

“Mama?” Lyssa asked, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Lyssa,” her mother whispered. She came to kneel next to Lyssa’s bed, taking her face in both hands. “We’re going to find the Dalish. The humans have taken everything from us. First, they imprison us and wait until the sickness has killed half of us, then they take our children for their war and kill them themselves. I will not wait until the templars take you, too. Come, sweetheart. We will leave as soon as the gate opens at dawn.”

Lyssa blinked as her mind tried to make sense of her mother’s words.  _ The Dalish? But they're a myth! _ She was still sluggish from the nightmares and grief and all she could think to say was: “But Fian and Soris’ wedding is next week…”

But Darina shook her head, stroking her daughter’s hair. “They will have to do without us. Come.”

Packing took very little time. They took all the food they could carry in their bags, wearing three sets of clothing each. Just before they left, Lyssa grabbed a little sachet from beneath her bed and fastened it to her belt. In it was one of the wooden puzzles Tarion had made her, and the head of the wooden pony which her father had once given her. It had broken the day her magic had surfaced, and all that was left from Delon and Lanian’s tries to fix it by binding the two pieces together with a ribbon that still hung around the jagged neck. Then they left, turning away from their small, colorful home and with it, the grief and heartbreak it had come to signify.


	2. The Long Way

The smell of honeycomb cake seemed far away. Sometimes, Lyssa felt like she could no longer even recall the taste of sweetness or even the golden hue of honey. Colors seemed to have slowly faded away with the last leaves of autumn, and while neither of them talked about it, Lyssa knew her mother was as sure as her that they would not survive the first snow.

Sometimes, the thought seemed better than lingering on, wandering aimlessly in the wilderness in the vain and helpless hope of finding the Dalish.

Dalish.

How hollow that word sounded now.

As long as they still had had food they hadn’t really worried. Their supplies had taken them over the first few weeks and during summer, there was enough work to be found on the fields for a few days here, a few days there that paid enough to get them further. The Chantry cared for the ever-growing stream of refugees where they could, providing them with a loaf of bread or a small sack of grains or dried fruits. And Darina had enough knowledge of plants that they were able to find nourishment during the days in the wild. They had never stayed too long at one place and avoided the bigger settlements for fear of templars, finding work on smaller farms or in little villages. But when summer had turned to autumn and autumn had turned to winter, the harvest had been brought in and fruits and nuts had started to become scarce. They had started to try and cover more ground each day, a route that took them west and then north and finally, after hitching a ride now and then with gracious farmers or hunters, over the sea into the Free Marches. Now they wandered the land, climbing mountains and trying to find the quickest way to the forest that would at least give them shelter in the ever more frequent rains. So far, Lyssa’s magic had kept their fire going but she started to seriously worry about her mother a few days ago. The hollow look reminded her too much of what she had seen in her father’s face as he fell sick and she barely stopped coughing.

For too long now, they just kept going without a real goal. And they both showed too many bones. Lyssa knew her mother was too proud to give up their search, too proud to admit she might be wrong about finding the mythical, free elven folk. They had wandered the land for nearly six months now and while they had sometimes found strange markers in the woods or at crossroads, everything else had been but stories about them. By now they knew they existed, had met enough people who had traded with them - but none could tell them where they might be able to find them.

“Good luck with that,” a farmer had laughed in their faces, back when they had still been in Ferelden and the days had still been more sunny than grey. “But don’t be surprised if they shoot first and then ask questions. They’re not actually friendly as long as they don’t need something you have. Sometimes they’re not friendly even then.”

He had even offered them food and lodgings if they helped on his fields but the look in his eyes when he had eyes first her, then her mother, had made Lyssa take an instinctive step back, drawing her mother with her. They had left quickly afterwards.

**~ **~****

The roads seemed to go in only one direction: east, along the coast. Lyssa knew what lay ahead and despite her mother’s reassurances that they would find shelter soon, she also knew that they had reached a point where they could no longer afford to hope in vain. It had been two days ago that they had eaten something more than stale nuts tasting vaguely of mould and Lyssa was so exhausted she didn’t even manage to weep as it started raining again. The cold had settled so deep in her bones she doubted she could ever be warm again. But with the mud around her ankles, her resolve grew. The Dalish didn’t matter if they didn’t survive.

She looked up at the waysign pointing towards Ostwick, just as her mother coughed again. They had tried to stay away from cities, from the potential threat of templars. As soon as they had reached the Free Marches in a small haven somewhere east of Kirkwall, they had separated from the other refugees who all seemed only too eager to get to the big city. Many had family or friends there or just hoped for help, not having enough money or strength to go on. Lyssa and her mother had gone east instead of west but they hadn’t made much headway with Darina getting sicker by the day. Lyssa’s eyes went back to her mother as she leaned against the post, holding her coat together with weak fingers as she was wrecked by another coughing fit.

Lyssa bit her lip to stop it from quivering and looked back at the waysign. She knew there was a Circle in Ostwick. They had to take her in if she told them that she was a mage. They would then surely also look after her mother, even if they couldn’t stay together, wouldn’t they?

Maybe it was time to do the right thing. Her heart clenched as she pictured the scene. What would they do to an apostate? Then she steeled herself. It didn’t matter what they would do to her. As long as her mother lived. As long as she herself lived.

It was telling that her mother hadn’t yet spoken of leaving the road again even though they were barely two days away from Ostwick. Maybe she had come to the same conclusion as she.

Raindrops ran over Lyssa’s face as if they wanted to mimic the tears that had dried out. She didn’t pay them any attention them as she thought about what would happen to them if they went to the Circle. Her mother would finally be safe, and would receive the healing and food she desperately needed. And Ostwick probably had an alienage as well, so it couldn’t be too bad, could it? At least it would be familiar. Her mother would settle in, maybe find a new family. But what would the templars do with a juvenile apostate, and an elf at that? Wasn’t being an apostate itself reason to imprison her?

There had always been stories about apostates - mostly bad ones. Blood mages, all of them, of course. Or worse, abominations. The word caused a shiver to run down Lyssa’s back, even though it was only a word. It suggested something horrible, monstrous and deadly, something that lurked in shadows and nightmares, behind cellar doors, only revealing itself in the distorted reflection one saw of oneself in a bared blade. She had no idea what an abomination actually was, only that it had something to do with demons. But then, she couldn’t be an abomination, could she? She had never seen a demon. She had talked to spirits in her dreams but never to demons. So maybe it wouldn’t be too bad in Ostwick. They would save her mother and Lyssa herself would learn to better control her magic and everything would be all right. She held on to that thought like a bee to a flower, a resolve in her eyes that she would not allow to include fear and lay her arm around Darina.

“Come, mama, let’s go,” she said, pulling her upright and went on, on towards Ostwick. When darkness fell, they had come close enough that she could see the shadow of the city looming some distance away, and the air had started to smell more distinctly like the sea.

**~ **~****

That night they found shelter in an abandoned shed that proved to be just good enough to keep the rain out, if not the cold. Darina fell into an uneasy sleep as soon as she lay down. Lyssa caressed her brow and sat down next to her, taking off her coat and covering her mother with it. For a long moment she stared into the twilight that had fallen, without really thinking or seeing, numbness making her limbs heavy. She felt too exhausted to form a coherent stream of thought. But what was there to say, to think about anyway? With a bit of luck, they would reach the city tomorrow and then it would be out of her hands anyway. With a deep, tired sigh she stood up again and went to gather what wood she could find.

Unfortunately, wood was all there _was_ to find. It seemed like the unforgiving humidity and cold of this early winter was even too much for elfroot which normally managed to grow nearly everywhere.

Lyssa finished her gathering, ignoring the hollow ache in her stomach. At least she would be warm. With practiced ease, she invoked a small fireball in her palm and slowly coaxed the splinters, straw, and branches she had found in the shed to a crackling fire in the center of the room, beneath a good-sized hole in the roof that she hoped would take most of the smoke. This small act of creating fire was the one thing she had done so often in her life now that she didn’t even have to think about what to do, she just used the magic instinctively.

The flames were warm and welcome, cast dancing shadows on the grey wood walls, but she could also see that there was too much smoke from the too-wet wood. For a moment she considered extinguishing it again to avoid detection but then again… what was the worst that could happen? Someone taking her to the templars? Lyssa hugged herself and huddled closer to the fire, stretching her fingers towards the flames. When her mother started to mutter her brothers’ names in her sleep, tossing fitfully, Lyssa looked up. The tiredness and cold in her body made her stiff and every movement was an effort but she went over to her nonetheless, calming her mother with a touch. Maybe she should bring her mother closer to the fire, she thought as she tucked her coat closer around her.

“Shhh,” she whispered gently, touching her face soothingly. Nearly in the same second, she pulled her hand back again, her eyes wide, fear flooding her. Darina’s skin was damp and heat came off her that seemed to try and match the fire. No. Not now. Not today. Not when they were so close to help!

For a moment she just stared at her mother, then she quickly went back to their packs, emptying them twice in a frantic search for anything left that might ease the fever. But there was nothing. Not a crumb left, not a single leaf of elfroot or willow’s bark. Desperate, she sank back onto her heels, looking at her mother’s flushed face. It reminded her eerily of how her father had looked just hours before he had died. The same sheen of sweat on her brow, the dry, cracked lips, and labored breathing.

“Mama?” she asked, her voice breaking but her mother did not react. Lyssa pressed her hands to her eyes, trying to clear her anxious thoughts. What could she do? What had her mother done when she had tried to save her father?

„Mama,“ she whispered. „I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do...“

Those last hours before each of her family members‘ deaths were forever imprinted in her mind. She forced her thoughts back now, trying to remember each thing her mother had done when nursing her brothers and father. But she didn’t even have what her mother had had back then—no herbs, no tinctures, no medicine.

Throughout the long night that didn’t seem to end, Lyssa tried to recreate everything as well as she could - keeping her mother as warm as possible, making compresses out of one of her shirts and some hot water for lack of tea. She only wished she knew how to cool something (or rather someone) with her magic but all she had ever managed to do was to create fire and heat or levitation. She knew there were ways to heal with magic but she didn’t dare to try it - at best nothing would happen, and at worst, she might seriously harm her mother. She would need to remedy that, she decided. It would be the first thing she would ask the Circle to teach her - if they ever reached Ostwick and if she wasn’t imprisoned for being an apostate and _if_ her mother survived the night.

The thought hit her suddenly in a flash like lightning, and as harsh. She jumped up and rushed back over to Darina, terrified at what she might find. Was she still breathing? Her fingers shook as she laid them upon her mother’s chest. Only when she felt the slow, labored rise and fall, did Lyssa shakingly let out the breath she had held, sinking back as a short, relieved laugh escaped her.

But then, the laugh turned into a sob. It was too much. All the weight on her shoulders, the tiredness, the fear. She had lost so much, too much. Until now, she had not allowed herself the luxury of sadness or self-pity before, but now the whole situation came crashing down on her. The sob turned into another, and another. And then she was weeping - not the small, sweet tears of a child, but in an ugly, raw wailing that racked her body.

She hadn’t cried like this in years, hadn’t allowed it, not even after her baby brothers had died. Back then she had tried to keep it together for her mother but now, terrified, shivering, and exhausted, the hot tears and snot streamed over her face and for once she didn’t care. It probably was the last night she’d ever spend with her mother and her mother was delusional with fever. If she survived the night - and at the moment, with the rain and the hunger, this was far from certain at all - Lyssa couldn’t even know if she would be able to get her mother as far as Ostwick tomorrow. What was she going to do?

Lyssa threw her arms around herself and buried her face into her knees, rocking herself to and fro, giving in to grief and fear, the lonely night wrapping itself around her like a sheet. Slowly, ever so slowly, her sobbing subsided as the flames burned down to embers and after a while, she sank onto her side, curling up next to her mother in an uneasy sleep, finding a much-needed escape of reality in the familiarity of the land of dreams.


	3. An Unexpected Meeting

“Da’len, wake up.”

An unfamiliar voice penetrated her sleep, and Lyssa reluctantly opened her eyes, fighting off the dream shadows. Grey daylight flooded in through the many holes in the walls. The fire had died.

Only a few meters away from her stood a strange elven man with short black hair and peculiar markings upon his face, a long staff in his hand. With a jolt, Lyssa was instantly fully awake. She leapt to her feet, going into an instinctive defensive stance, a fireball forming in her hand before she had even formed a coherent thought. Yet before she could do anything more, the man just smiled and made a small gesture and Lyssa’s fireball died in her hand. She stared at her hand then at the other elf, her thoughts stumbling over themselves before she managed to say, “But… how?”

“You’re not the only one with magic, da’len," the man said gently. She gave him a wide-eyed look, slowly straightening as she finally shook off the last bit of sleep-induced disorientation and realized the obvious: that the staff in the man’s hand was a mage’s staff. Quickly, she scanned his face for the little telltale signs of anger or fear or threatening violence, but she saw nothing but calmness and vigilance. Her eyes flew around the room to see if he  was alone, but she couldn’t see anyone else besides the mage and her mother -

_ Her mother. _

“Mama!”

Lyssa paled and rushed to her mother’s side, remorse and guilt flooding her. How could she have forgotten her? How could she have fallen asleep when her mother was fighting for her life? She frantically searched her mother’s face and chest for signs of life. Darina’s face was ashen, her forehead dotted with pearls of sweat… but she breathed. The breaths were shallow but present. Lyssa’s relief was so overwhelming she nearly wept.

“She is very sick,” the stranger said. His voice was gentle, coming from her side where he had knelt down, so quietly she hadn’t heard him do so. Lyssa looked up, clasping her mother’s clammy hand between hers, a desperate hope in her voice.

“Can you help her? You have magic - please?”

The man cocked his head thoughtfully and gripped his staff more tightly.

“I will try.”

He held out a hand over Darina’s chest, palm down, and a bluish light spread softly, engulfing them both. Lyssa stared in wonder, her heart tight with worry and fear. After several minutes, the elf let out a strained sigh and let his hand sink back to his side. Lyssa’s eyes filled with tears of relief as she realized that her mother’s breathing had deepened.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against her mother’s hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I have managed to ease her but I’m afraid there is only so much I can do, da’len," the mage said, shaking his head, and Lyssa fell silent again, looking at him with desperation. He stood up and she quickly followed suit. “The rest is up to the healers and herself. We will have to take her back to the clan.”

Lyssa caught her breath. She shook her head, still trying to process what was happening. He had said “to take her back to the clan…” She hardly dared hope. Did that mean…?

Suddenly, Darina’s voice cut into her thoughts. “The clan? Did we finally find the Dalish?” her mother asked, her voice hoarse and cracked. Both Lyssa and the mage looked to her as she tried to sit up.

“Mama, you’re awake!” Lyssa cried out joyfully. She threw her arms around her mother, supporting her as she sat up slowly and with an effort.

“I am,” Darina murmured, hugging her back before she eyed the stranger who smiled at them.

“I’d say _I_ found _you,_ ” he smiled. “But yes. You’re from the city, are you not?”

They both nodded. “Yes, we are. But we left last summer. My daughter…” Darina looked at Lyssa who murmured, “He already knows.”

“The magic?” the elf asked and Lyssa nodded. “Is… is that a problem?” she asked in a small voice, suddenly desperate, hopeful and excited at the same time. “Can we come stay with you? I don’t want to go to the Circle. Please?”

The smile flickered again across the man’s face at Lyssa’s question. “That’s for the Keeper to decide,” he said. “But I don’t see why not. However, we have to get you there first. I think I’ll have to get the hunters to carry you.” He nodded at Darina who vehemently shook her head, even though she coughed again.

“No, don’t fret. I can walk. Honey, help me up, please.”

It took her a few tries but eventually she managed to stand. She was pale and shaky, but she was standing. Lyssa anxiously held her mother’s arm, more concerned with her well-being than with anything else. Her mother reassured her with a tired smile before turning to the elf. “My name is Darina. This is Lyssa.”

The elf seemed to catch himself and said, “I am so sorry, where are my manners? I am Meeran of the Lavellan clan. Are you sure you are able to walk?”

“I’ll manage,” Darina nodded, and Lyssa sighed a breath of relief as she heard the clarity in her mother’s voice. Her hands squeezed her Darina’s arm and her eyes shone with pride at how her mother refused to give up. Even now, she would not stop fighting, no matter how sick she was. She was still far from healthy, that much was clear, but it was as if some of the strength she had lost had finally come back.

Meeran smiled and inclined his head. “Very well then. I will wait outside until you have packed.”

Lyssa’s eyes fell onto the chaos she had caused the day before when she had emptied all of their meager belongings onto the ground, spreading them out in that frantic search for anything that might help her mother. She blushed and quickly started to gather everything up as Meeran went outside.

Her mother moved to help her, but Lyssa shook her head. “I got it, Mama.”

Lyssa’s mind was a whirl. She was still in shock, part of her unsure whether to really believe something good had finally happened for them. However, for the moment, she had to. She needed this to be true. They both did.

It didn’t take them more than a few minutes to pack. Shortly afterwards, they were on their way, following Meeran into the woods. There was a strange silence between them as they walked away from the city looming in the distance. Lyssa wiped her face tiredly as they entered the small forest and steadied her mother who suppressed another coughing fit. Had this really happened? Had they finally gotten help? The whole situation was unreal, and Lyssa feared that any moment now, she would wake up and find herself alone again with her dying mother. Could it really be that their luck had turned?

~~

When they neared the Dalish camp, which was situated a bit farther up into the mountains, Lyssa could hear several signal arrows singing through the air. She looked up at the sudden sound, but Meeran didn’t stop. Lyssa tightened her grip around her mother’s midst. Darina gave her another smile but she saw the pallor in her cheeks. 

“Is it still far?” she asked anxiously. Meeran paused and turned towards them. Worry was on his face as he saw the way Darina swayed and he hurried to her side, supporting her. Suddenly, there were two other elves next to them, appearing from between the trees. Lyssa shrank back into herself, instinctively edging even closer to her mother as she saw the weary looks they gave them and the way their hands tightened around their bows. One of the women said something to Meeran in another language and he gave a short answer. They disappeared again, quick and swiftly as a shadow.

For a second Lyssa could do nothing but stare. She had never seen anyone move like that.

“Come, sweetie,” her mother said weakly. Quickly, Lyssa gathered herself and they walked on.

“It is not far now,” Meeran assured them. “Just a little bit further. The hunters will tell Ivea, the healer, to expect us.”

Lyssa nodded and let out a breath of relief. She was so very tired but she couldn’t get the sound of the words the Dalish had exchanged out of her mind. As they trudged on, she turned them over and over again in her head. There had been something familiar about it, something tugging at her heart. She knew some elven words from home - vhenadahl, hahren, Arlathan - but this was something else entirely. It felt more… whole.

Lyssa was still thinking about the language when they came into the camp, but her thoughts were interrupted as a woman came up to them. Her dark hair was bound back tightly, giving her lean face a stern look, but her intelligent, bright eyes were warm beneath the white tattoos on her dark face. There was a faint smell of herbs and salves above her that made Lyssa immediately think of the evenings she helped her mother with her healing. When Meeran greeted her as Ivea, Lyssa knew that her instincts had been right. Ivea couldn’t be much older than Darina and as soon as she had taken a look at them, she rushed them to a fireplace next to a wagon with a bright, sail-like cloth. It was obvious that they planned to stay longer — there were baskets and racks filled with herbs and pots and bandages, the ground was covered with woven mats and carpets and several small beds. The whole place seemed to serve as a sort of hospital. Lyssa stayed back as the healer immediately started to work on her mother, barking commands to a boy who looked to be approximately Lyssa’s age. Lyssa carefully put their bundles down next to the wagon, trying to stay invisible.

At first, she fearfully kept her eyes on her mother, who seemed only too glad to lie down again after their journey, but she soon got distracted by the novelty of the Dalish camp. Having grown up in the Alienage, she was used to being surrounded by elves but this was another thing entirely. City elves were not allowed to carry weapons of any kind in the Alienage, and the poverty among them was simply accepted as normal — even in the Alienage, there had been beggars and starving or sick people on the street. Lyssa, like many, had known it was best to try to be invisible in the human streets, which had given most people a kind of hushed look. And despite their being apart from the humans, they had still worn the same clothes as them, eaten the same food, shared the same religion.

But here, none of this applied. Everyone seemed to wear a weapon — at least a dagger — even the children. Their dress was distinctive and utilitarian, both in the clothes as well as the adornments of weapons and wagons, not to mention the tattoos upon every adult face. And it was more than that: everyone here held their heads high. There was no hiding, no averting the gaze, no hunched shoulders. These elves knew who they were and they were proud of it.

There were about a dozen wagons in the camp, though most were smaller than that of the healer, and even more fireplaces. Next to the wagons and around the fireplaces, benches and racks were placed and canvases were spread between wagons and trees to give shelter from the rains. Everything looked to be equally comfortable and practical, ready to be packed away with few hands. 

Children, small dogs and even one or two stag fawn were running between them and at nearly every fire, something was cooking or roasting above it.

Lyssa swallowed hard as she got aware of the smells wafting towards her, suddenly very aware of how incredibly hungry she was. Her eyes widened, fixating on the pot that hung over the next fireplace. She curled her fingers into fists and swallowed again before she forced her eyes away and back to her mother. She tried in vain to remember when she had last eaten something hot — or just something more substantial than nuts and berries and leaves. A hollow and sharp ache filled her stomach but she didn’t dare approach the fireplace. A man was sitting at the fire and worked on a basket and she didn’t want to disturb him. And they were only guests, after all, and she couldn’t leave her mother alone. But she was so hungry… She stole another longing look towards the food again since the healer and her apprentice were still fussing over her mother. Maybe she could pay for it? Somewhere there had to be something she could still sell, even if they didn’t have any money left. Or she could work for it? Maybe she —

“You look hungry, da’len.”

Lyssa startled at the unexpected comment. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching, but beside her, An older, elegant woman with grey hair looked at her with kind eyes. Meeran had joined them as well and gave Lyssa an encouraging smile. She swallowed again, her eyes flickering back to the food before she nodded.

“Come.”

The older woman led the way to the fireplace, and at her nod, the man put his basket aside, filled a bowl with the stew from the pot and gave it to Lyssa.

“For me?” Lyssa asked him, disbelief in her voice, looking from one to the other.

“Yes, of course,” he said with a small smile, nodding to her before he went back to work on his basket next to where Meeran had taken a seat.

“But… but I can’t pay for it,” she stammered.

“Don’t worry about that, da’len,” the older woman said, “sit with me and eat.”

The woman sat down on the bench and patted the seat next to her as an indication for Lyssa to sit down as well. Lyssa sat down obediently, and when the woman nodded at her kindly again, she began to eat. The smell alone was so good that tears came to her eyes. When she had had the first taste it was like something had taken her over and any thought of decency was lost. The stew was nearly too hot to eat but she didn’t care, gobbling it down as fast as she could. She didn’t see the looks the others exchanged but as soon as the bowl was empty, she was given another, accompanied by a chunk of bread which she devoured nearly as quickly.

“When was the last time you ate, da’len?" the woman asked calmly, when she was finished. Lyssa looked guiltily at the empty bowl and swallowed the last bit of bread. Her stomach was so full it hurt but this time she didn’t mind the ache. She just hoped she could keep it all down.

“I… well, depends on what you consider eating, really," she finally managed in a small voice. “We had some old nuts and the last of our dried berries the day before yesterday, I think. Or the day before that? But it had been weeks before… I don’t remember when I had something like _this_.”

Suddenly, she realized she had eaten the whole piece of bread.  

“Damn," she muttered.

“What’s wrong?" Meeran asked form across the fire.

“I should’ve kept something for my mother," Lyssa said unhappily, and this time she saw the looks the others exchanged and her cheeks colored.

“Don’t you worry about that," the older woman said. “Your mother will get something to eat as soon as the healer is done with her.”

Lyssa nodded with relief. “Thank you," she murmured to the three of them, indicating the empty bowl.

“My name is Deshanna. I am Keeper of this clan. You already know Meeran, my First," the woman said. “What’s your name?”

“I am Lyssa,” she answered slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar words. What was a ‘keeper’? And what was a first? First of what? Was Meeran Deshanna’s son?

“And your mother?”

“Darina. Darina Varmis," Lyssa said a bit shyly, “we’re from Denerim, originally. But we left last summer.”

Meeran nodded. “Because of the Blight?”

Lyssa perked up as she saw the pause of the man with the basket, the suspicious glance at where her mother lay. She quickly shook her head. “No, not… well, indirectly. But we haven’t come in contact with any Darkspawn, I promise! We left after my brother died. He had been recruited for the army to fight the Darkspawn but he was killed during training.”

The man by the fireside continued his work with the basket, but Lyssa could see in the way he held his head that he listened closely. She gave Deshanna and Meeran a pleading look. “Mother said she didn’t want to lose me to the Templars since I’m a mage. That’s why we left.” She looked at Deshanna but could see neither surprise nor fear — in fact, none of the emotions she would have expected. Instead, there was only quiet contemplation. Lyssa added, “I am… we’re the only ones left. Dad and my younger brothers died two years ago when the measles spread through the Alienage. Many died back then. We were lucky after all, but then the Blight threatened and Tarion died and...” Her voice had gotten more quietly as she talked and when she trailed off, they were all silent for a long moment. Lyssa looked down at her hands, painstakingly aware of how dirty they were. Self-consciously, she hid them between her legs, looking up at Deshanna again. The woman didn’t seem to have noticed her discomfort as she asked, “Meeran tells me you want to join the Dalish? Is this true?”

Lyssa nodded and straightened nervously. “Yes, please? We’ve been looking for you ever since we left Denerim.”

Deshanna smiled. “And you have found us.” She paused. “For now, you can stay. At least until your mother has her strength back. Then we will talk about what will happen next.”

This certainly wasn’t what Lyssa had hoped to hear, but she hid her disappointment quickly. They had tended to her mother and given her something to eat which was so much more than she had expected for the day — who was she to complain? So she nodded with a dutiful smile.

Deshanna looked like she wanted to add something but decided against it. “I think you need some rest as well, da’len. Go to Ivea, the healer, and then get some sleep. I think she wants to have a look at you when she is finished with your mother. We will speak more when you are awake.”

With that, Deshanna got up again and after a last smile, she left her in Meeran’s care. Meeran took Lyssa back to the healer’s wagon, Lyssa pausing as they did so to thank the man for the stew again. He just nodded, not saying anything, but his eyes were smiling.

“Don’t worry, Lyssa," Meeran said kindly as they walked back towards the healer’s wagon. “Everything will be all right now.”

“Thank you," Lyssa answered quietly. “Really. Thank you.”

When they reached her, Ivea nodded towards one of the beds and despite he fact that it was only afternoon, Lyssa lay down without any protests as she saw that her mother seemed to be asleep again. She was warm, she wasn’t hungry for the first time in ages and they were safe.

Her head had barely touched the pillow before she fell asleep.


	4. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long pause! Work has a tendency to become super stressful at the most inappropriate times... I promise the next chapters will come more quickly. Thanks for sticking with me! ♥  
> This part, the arrival in the clan, was very dear to my heart, and I hope I could convey just how important it is for Lyssa.

Lyssa slept straight through to the next afternoon, and when she awoke, Ivea gave her something to eat, assuring her that her mother was no worse. Then, she pointed her towards a small wagon, putting some clothes and a fresh towel into her hands. Behind the wagon, Lyssa found a wooden tub big enough for several people, only secluded from the business of the rest of the camp by some big sheets. It was already filled with water scented with fragrant herbs.

Lyssa let out a grateful sigh at the sight. She knew she stank. The only washing she had been able to do for some time had been a hasty rub-down in a freezing stream or just letting the rain do its job. It hadn’t been high on her priority list, but now that she had a bed and clean clothes, she longed to be clean again. To start feeling like herself again.

She carefully put the towel and clothes on one of the benches next to the tub and tested the water. It was nearly cold, and she supposed it had been refilled with hot water some time in the morning but hadn’t been heated since. Not that it mattered. She looked around cautiously, but nobody was paying her any attention, so she quickly put her hand completely into the water, letting her magic spread out from her fingertips. In a few moments the water was steaming again, and Lyssa started to undress hastily.

“All right, that is something that will come in handy!” someone exclaimed behind her and Lyssa spun around, startled. A girl of approximately her own age grinned at her. “You heated the water! I’d never bother Deshanna with that and Meeran can’t really handle fire, but this is brilliant!”

The girl had dark brown locks that seemed to try their best to escape her braid, the tips of her long ears barely looking out of them, and a smile that lit up her whole round face. “I’m Thia, by the way,” said the girl. “Sorry to have startled you. Ivea sent me; she forgot the comb. Hey, do you mind if I join you? When I came to bathe this morning, the water was barely warm anymore so I just did a quick wash, but the weather is so dreadful and I’m supposed to look after you anyway, show you around, so…”

She put her hands on her hips, still grinning. “Lyssa, right?” she asked when all Lyssa could do was stare at her.

“Um,” Lyssa began, then settled on nodding. She was still pressing her shirt against her chest, only half dressed.

Thia gave her a wink and nodded towards the bath. “Ah, you’ll get used to naked skin quickly. We’re living too close together to bother with concepts of shame about something ridiculous like that.”

She proved the truth of her words by undressing without a second thought and, completely naked, went over to where a bucket stood next to some wooden planks on the forest floor. It was only now that Lyssa saw the small stream that ran directly behind it. Thia filled the bucket from the stream and went back to the planks. She winked again at Lyssa and gave herself a quick wash before she climbed into the big tub, sinking into the hot water with a contented sigh.

Lyssa slowly peeled herself out of her dirty clothes, somewhat overwhelmed by Thia’s presence. But the girl was so expressive that it was easy for her to read her, and there was no malice or lie in what she had said. Lyssa felt an instinctive liking for her. And if she was honest, she was grateful that Thia had shown up — Lyssa knew she would just have gotten into the big tub, probably making the water unusable afterwards because of her dirt and grime. Still, she was self-conscious, overly aware of the difference in appearance between the two of them as she filled the bucket with water. She quickly dumped it over herself before she thoroughly rubbed off the worst of the dirt, dousing herself off again with cold water. Then she climbed into the tub to join Thia. Where Thia was round and even soft in places, Lyssa knew she herself showed too many bones and bruises. But the other girl didn’t seem to notice — or if she did, she didn’t say anything.

“Sylaise bless you, seriously,” Thia sighed and sank deeper into the water with a smile, closing her eyes in bliss. Lyssa shared her feeling as the hot water slowly warmed her cold limbs, but she looked up at the unfamiliar word.

“Sylaise?” she asked cautiously and blinked in surprise as Thia cheered, throwing both arms up in the air.

“She speaks!”

Lyssa immediately retreated a bit and Thia laughed. “Ir abelas. My apologies. I sometimes tend to overdo it. But really, it’s the first thing I’ve heard you say.”

“Sorry,” Lyssa mumbled, blushing, and the elven girl laughed again.

“No need to apologize, really,” Thia said. “I’ll get used to it. But you asked and that is wonderful! Rumor has it that you’re planning on staying? So then you need to ask all the questions, and also, that is really good because Meeran has been pining after the Serveh clan for years. If you’re staying, he might go after all, just like he always wanted. Then you might even become new First! You are the only other mage here after all!”

Lyssa couldn’t do much more than stare at Thia helplessly. First? Serveh clan? “I don’t know what any of this means,” she confessed in a small voice, and Thia’s laughter softened to a smile.

“No, of course not,” she said, “how could you? But don’t worry. You’ll learn quickly enough. Come, I’ll comb your hair while I tell you the basics about clan life.”

Thia talked to her all the way through their bath and then showed her how to put on the traditional clothes Ivea had given her before Lyssa burned her old ones. Then she took her on a tour through the camp, introducing her to almost everyone they met until Lyssa’s head was swimming with names and faces and facts.

By the time evening fell, Lyssa found herself surrounded by elves of all ages. Her mother was still in Ivea’s care but was awake and, just as Deshanna had promised, had gotten something to eat as well, quietly telling Lyssa to go and have fun. Thia didn’t leave her side once, and even though Lyssa had been overwhelmed by her presence in the beginning, she found it soothing now. There was something so warm, happy and open about Thia that it was hard not to be joyful as well.  

“Most clans have some people from the cities,” her new friend explained as they sat around the fire for the evening meal. “Those who don’t are few and small. And even they take second or third generation, so in fact, they have them, too.”

Lyssa shook her head in awe. “For most of my life, I thought the Dalish were a myth,” she confessed. “The alienage is so closed off… and few ever leave the city. Sometimes, there are marriages arranged between alienages, but apart from that, there is no real reason to leave. Or rather, chance.”

“Yeah, I heard that it’s even more closed-off in Ferelden,” someone agreed. “But even here, contact with the alienages is scarce. Venturing into the cities for trade is dangerous enough already, so most trade is made in the smaller ones. And they don’t have alienages. Or elves, in fact.”

“You’re from Denerim, huh?” Camros, a tall, red-haired boy said as he reached for some more of the flat, stone-baked bread that accompanied the various hot dishes. Lyssa nodded shyly. It was still weird to have so many people around, and as the new person at the fire, there were many questions and tales.

“My grandmother was from Denerim,” Camros told her. “Elhelia Parra. She was working for some noblewoman who came to Wycome when the clan was there for trade. Babala must have been quite the looker or she wouldn’t have run away with him.” He grinned as he ran his fingers through his hair and wiggled his eyebrows at Lyssa. “But then, I have to have inherited the looks from someone, right?”

From across the fire, someone called over mockingly, “You wish!”

“I’m just saying it how it is!” The red-headed boy shrugged and grinned.

“Babala?” Lyssa whispered to Thia, while the rest of the fire laughed at Camros.

“Grandfather,” she explained as quietly and grinned as well. “Pay him no heed. He’s just ard’avin, a loud-mouth. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Lyssa nodded and smiled at Camros, who took the jokes and teases in stride, a good-natured grin on his face. He perked up when he saw her smile and winked at her before he turned back to the dark-haired boy across the fire.

“Nelos, admit it, you’re just jealous because all you have going for yourself are those ridiculous earrings.”

Nelos just laughed. “Talk all you want, Camros. We all know who is the jealous one between the two of us.”

Thia groaned, a sentiment echoed by various others around the fire. “Oh, cut it off already.”

“Yes, please,” another girl chimed in. “Who are you trying to impress here, anyway?”

“You, of course,” Camros exclaimed, falling to his knees in front of her, dramatically holding up his hands. “Please, Rina, answer my-“

He was interrupted by a cuff on the head dealt by Thia, and another round of laughter erupted around the fire as he protested. Lyssa watched with a smile on her lips. She could see that despite her eye-rolling, Rina was pleased by Camros’ flattery. All in all, the teasing and jokes were without cruelty or falseness, and it was more than obvious that they all knew each other very well and liked each other a lot.

And she was in the midst of it.

There were several fireplaces between the aravels where people ate, a familiarity and calmness laying all over the camp. All of this seemed too good to be true. She was warm, clean, safe, and there was enough food for everyone. Lyssa took a deep breath, smiling at Thia who looked at her questioningly.

“Everything all right?” Thia asked.

Before she could do more than nod, someone put another plate full of food into her hands, this time filled with sweet seedcake and dried fruits.

“Here, eat. You need some meat on your bones if you want to last the winter,” Jhenna said when Lyssa hesitated. Jhenna was a young woman with dark skin and even darker hair, her tattoos - _vallaslin_ , as Lyssa had learned - a startling light blue shimmer on her cheeks.

“But -” Lyssa started, but the woman shook her head, cutting her short.

“No _but_. Eat.” Her harsh words stood in contrast to the warmth in her eyes. “You’re a mage, right? Then you’re going to do a lot of training and work, so you need your energy. Eat.”

“Jhenna is right,” Thia joined in, stealing a piece of dried apple from her plate. “Eat while you can. If the winter is long, we’ll have to ration soon enough. Also, the cake is delicious.”

“Listen to them,” Camros said from next to her. “But if you don’t want the cake, I’ll take it.”

Lyssa chuckled when both Thia and Jhenna told Camros off and concentrated on the food, closing her eyes in delight at the rich sweetness of it. “Sorry, Camros,” she mumbled around a mouthful of cake. “There is no chance you’re getting something from this.”

“Ah, one can hope,” he grinned.

After another few minutes of relaxed conversation, Lyssa asked, “You said your grandmother was a Parra, yes?”

He nodded.

“Actually, my aunt, Nella, married into the Parra family.”

Camros’ eyes widened. “You’re kidding!”

Lyssa shook her head. “No, it’s true. Her husband is Soran, he must be Elhelia’s nephew. But they thought she died as far as I remember.”

Camros stared, then grabbed her hand, his face a picture of pure excitement. “Mythal ghilem’ma! This is incredible! Papae will be beyond joy. Mamaela’s one regret was never knowing what happened to her family.” He pulled her into a spontaneous embrace, then jumped up. “Don’t go anywhere!” he called and hurried away.

Lyssa smiled, still too surprised to react beyond watching him talk excitedly to a group of people at another fire. A man who looked like an older version of Camros stood up after just a moment and looked over to her with an equally delighted expression on his face. Then he gave her a nod, but contrary to what Lyssa expected, he did not come over but instead walked towards Ivea’s aravel where Darina was lying, propped up on the small cot. Deshanna and Meeran were sitting next to her and Ivea, talking quietly. When Camros and his father approached, they looked up and welcomed them into the round. Lyssa let out a small breath; both relieved that she did not have to deal with yet another new person and that her mother was included as well.

Thia laughed and put an arm around Lyssa’s shoulders. “See, you’re family already!”

~~

The days that followed were full of learning and talks. Lyssa started to train with both Deshanna and Meeran almost immediately when they heard that she had never received a mage’s training before. Her mother improved rapidly by the day, and Ivea soon found that she had in Lyssa a second helper who could match her other apprentice in some areas already. Darina quickly joined Ivea in her work as a healer, and the two women became fast friends, working together and learning from each other. Where Ivea had more experience in treating wounds, Darina’s skills as a midwife and her knowledge in herb-lore were not easily matched. In the evenings, Lyssa was taken away by Thia to be with her friends, who introduced her to clan life better and more easily than any training could. Camros had more or less adopted her as a cousin, and both he and Jhenna became close friends, as well. Lyssa liked Camros’ easygoing, forgiving nature and Jhenna’s warmth and no-nonsense attitude, and together with Thia, the two of them made sure that Lyssa quickly felt at home in the clan.

As soon as Darina was on her feet again, she had a long talk with Keeper Deshanna, and not long afterwards, when the families and clan members had given their consent, they were formally welcomed into Clan Lavellan. Camros’ family officially claimed them as relatives, and since there were only two of them, they were invited to live at their fire for as long as they wanted. Camros’ mother was a small, quiet woman and one of the best weavers of the clan, and his father a hunter. The following months were full of learning as Lyssa and Darina settled in. Soon, the clan had become family and a home — one that reminded Lyssa of the comfort of the early years of her childhood, back when her father and brothers had still been alive.

When they left the winter quarter in spring to roam the woods and steppes of the Free Marches, Lyssa realized that the laughter had come back to her mother — and to herself.

Only now did she realize how much she had had to hold back in the alienage, and how much of herself had had to be hidden away because of her magic. Here in the clan, between learning to channel all the complex elements beyond fire, and drawing wards and runes, she did not have to fear templars or the curious, fearful eyes of neighbors. When she learned to navigate the Fade and expand her own power under supervision, she felt instead as if she only now discovered what it truly meant to have magic and to accept it as a part of herself. For the first time in her life, she started to love her own abilities.

Both the healer and the Keeper were delighted to find in Lyssa a student both quick and eager to learn. Ivea told her that she could concentrate on her magic lessons if she wished, but healing had been Lyssa’s first love and she would not give it up. Instead, she built upon what Meeran could teach her of healing magic and tried to combine the knowledge of both magic and healing.    
  
At first, Lyssa only concentrated on her magic and healing lessons, but when she realized how much knowledge was open to her, she submerged herself in everything she could get her hands on. She absorbed every bit of knowledge and history she could get, at times getting completely lost in the stories and legends, falling in love with the religion and history of the Dalish — sometimes so much so that Thia had to drag her out into the woods for a respite. Thia often sneaked Lyssa away from the Keeper’s supervision when she thought her friend had had enough and used these moments for laughter and rest, and also to show her everything she needed to know about the local plants and the woods in general.    
  
It was thanks to her friend that Lyssa discovered her love for the forests and the silence she found there. While Lyssa had come to love the life in the clan and the fact that she did not need to hide herself, there were times when the closeness of their aravels and camps were hard to bear. But now she had found a true family.

For a few years, everything was nearly perfect.

Then, just after Lyssa received her vallaslin, Darina fell sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mythal ghilem’ma! - Mythal guided you


	5. Unknown Places

It was slow at first, barely noticeable.

It started with a pain in her back, a cough, tiredness. Darina brushed it off in the beginning, claiming not to have slept enough or to have overdone it the day before. But the dark circles beneath her eyes did not go away, then she lost her appetite. Nothing seemed to help.

Over the course of a few months, Lyssa suffered while watching her mother slowly waste away despite everyone’s best efforts. Nobody could find anything that helped her for longer than a few days. Potions did nothing but lessen the pain, and neither did Lyssa’s healing magic. When the next spring came, Darina was more asleep than awake, and for a time, Lyssa spent most of her days at her mother’s bedside, pouring magic into her until she herself nearly passed out from exhaustion. 

“Dalathin,” Thia greeted her quietly, stepping into the aravel one afternoon. She laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder, and Lyssa swayed slightly as she startled, then turned to look at her. A steady stream of magic sank from her hands into her mother’s sleeping body on pure reflex, even if it depleted her. She had become used to it.  
  
“Lyssa. She’s asleep,” Thia said. “Time for you to rest, too. Come, I’ve prepared something to eat.”

Thia turned away, not waiting for Lyssa, and left before her friend could argue. When Lyssa stepped out of the aravel into the grey afternoon sun, Thia was already sitting at the fire, wrapped in a big shawl with the clan’s traditional embroidery against the cold. Despite the first buds that had sprung up all around the forest, the days were still cool and the nights had brought with them a glittering frost that lay over the whole camp.   
  
Thia had a bowl of stew prepared for Lyssa, the steam curling from the bowl into the cool air. In the three years they had known each other, Thia had lost the roundness of her face and had grown from girl into woman. But she still had a softness about her, deep dimples in her cheeks from her seemingly never-stopping smile, her locks a barely manageable mess over her long ears. She wore Ghilan’nain’s vallaslin, a delicate, dark pattern of interwoven loops and flourishes curving over her brow, vaguely looking like halla horns — fitting for a halla keeper.

“Hey you,” Thia smiled at Lyssa as she stepped towards her. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in days.”

“Probably because you haven’t,” Lyssa murmured and sat down next to her friend. She took the bowl with a quiet “thanks” and started to eat, only now realizing how famished she was. For a while, neither of them spoke, Thia just quietly refilling Lyssa’s bowl when she had wolfed down the first. Eventually, Thia started to talk, telling her friend about the things she had done the last few days, insignificant details of clan life that she knew would distract Lyssa from thinking about her sick mother. For a short, wonderful hour, Lyssa had to do nothing but eat and listen, and she even found herself smiling. 

“It’s good to see you smile, Lyssa,” Thia said softly, and Lyssa nodded slowly, looking down into her empty bowl before she put it aside to take her friend’s hand and give it a squeeze.

“Thank you for giving me a reason to,” she murmured, then she looked back at the aravel with a sigh. “I’ll have to go back in soon. Hopefully, she’ll eat something once she wakes.”

“Why don’t you go out for a bit?” Thia proposed. Her voice was light, but deliberate, trying hard to sound lighthearted. But Lyssa could see the strain around her eyes. Her friend was worried about her. “Check the wards, take a stroll, gather some herbs, you know, the stuff you like to do,” she answered. “I’ll take care of Darina when she wakes.”

Lyssa hesitated, but the other woman didn’t back off. “Come, dalathin, you know as much as I that you need to stretch your legs now and then,” Thia insisted. “Have you seen yourself lately? You look like you haven’t properly slept in weeks. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re the next one falling sick. You need a break. Please, Lyssa.”

For a moment, Lyssa just looked at her friend with burning eyes, then she took a deep breath. She knew Thia was right, but it was so hard to let go, even for a short time. “I’m scared to leave her, Thia,” she whispered. “What if she dies while I’m not there?”

Her friend quickly drew her into a tight embrace. Lyssa buried her face at Thia’s shoulder, taking a shuddering breath against the threatening tears. “She won’t,” the other woman answered softly, stroking her hair. “She won’t.” For a moment, they just held each other, then Thia pulled back. “And I know Darina. She wouldn’t want you to waste your days and energy solely on her. If she weren’t sleeping, she’d be telling you to get some fresh air, too.”

Lyssa wiped her eyes and nodded. “I know.” She looked back to the aravel. She knew that in her care of her mother she had been neglecting her duties, and even though the Keeper had told her that she could cope alone, there was so much that needed attention - both around the camp and in their personal space. Camros had come by nearly every day for the last few weeks and brought food, and every few days, Ivea or another friend of Darina’s had taken it upon themselves to sit with her for a while. Jhenna had silently taken their laundry to wash with her own, and Deshanna had brought more potions. And all of them had come to talk to Darina, whether she was awake or not. Lyssa had help from all sides for everything essential, but some things had to wait until she could take care of them herself. 

“All right,” she finally said, and Thia let out a breath. As she reached for a basket, though, her friend stopped her.

“No. No work. Just be alone for a while. Take care of yourself.”

Slowly, Lyssa nodded. As much as she felt like she should be doing something, she also knew that Thia would not let her be until she had taken a little time for herself. And if she was honest with herself, she longed for the feeling of being in the woods, just her, the trees and the wind. “I won’t be long.”

Thia nodded and smiled. “Take all the time you need, dalathin.”

Lyssa had nearly forgotten how much she loved to walk in the silence of the forest, just the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath her feet, the creaking of the trees and the rustle of the wind around her. She had renewed several wards on her way, but now, alone with the woods, she finally felt like she was able to breathe again, for the first time in weeks. The air was chilly, fresh, and every breath she took made her relax more into the silent, slow, and steady walk she adopted when in the forest.

She didn’t come far, though. As she walked, she allowed the tension to leave her that had carried her through the last days.

Then, the tears came. She couldn’t help it, exhaustion and grief washing over her, and she stumbled with a sob. She steadied herself against a tree, tears obscuring her view, and pressed a hand against her eyes. 

“Lyssa,” she heard a calm, cautious voice say behind her. She turned, startled. It was too late to hide the tears, but she did her best, quickly wiping her cheeks and clearing her throat, even as the person came toward her.

Then she recognized him.

“Nelos,” she greeted him, blinking the last tears away. “Ir abelas. I did not know you were on the hunt.”

The dark-haired young man shook his head and quickly held up his hand. “Actually… I wasn’t. I saw you leaving and thought you…” 

He trailed off, and she tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. He was much closer to Camros than to her, so his seeking her out surprised her somewhat. Nelos was as social as she was withdrawn, and while she was happy to burrow into lore and teachings, he laughed and flirted himself from fire to fire.   
  
Lyssa couldn’t count how often she had watched in amusement from the sidelines as he had wrapped someone around his little finger with his startling grey eyes, the ever-teasing smile and his quick laugh. It would have been easy to despise him, were he not so without malice. He never took advantage of someone, and his laughter was just as much directed at himself as at others, so it was nearly impossible to hold a grudge against him.

But there was no teasing or laughter in him as he watched her now, just open sympathy. “There’s a place I like to visit when our clan is here,” he said quietly. “I thought you might want to see it? I know how you love the forest, and it always helps me to find some peace of mind, and…” Nelos trailed off again when he saw her surprised, wide eyes.

For a moment, Lyssa didn’t know what to say. The offer touched her deeply, especially since she knew it for the gift it was. Nelos was one of their best scouts, and everybody knew that he had a knack for finding secluded, beautiful places. Often, he led the clan to those spaces, but it was an open secret that he also kept some of them just for himself. That he would share it with her just to console her… she felt both moved and surprised by the intimacy of it.

She was still searching for words when he suddenly shrugged, one hand brushing his dark hair out of his face, a gesture she recognized from when he was trying to seem more confident than he actually was. “It was a stupid thought. I shouldn’t have disturbed you. Forgive me.”

He was already turning away when she took a quick step towards him, laying a hand on his arm. Nelos stopped, looking back at her with uncertainty in his eyes.

“It wasn’t stupid,” she said softly. “Not at all.” 

He let out a breath, and his smile returned to him as she added, “I was just surprised because I know you normally don’t share your secrets with just anyone.”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted as he turned back to her. “But I thought you needed the escape more than I do at the moment.”

Lyssa nodded, wiping her eyes, which had become treacherously wet again when she saw the kindness in Nelos’ smile. “I would love to see it.”

He smiled and turned, waiting until she moved next to him, then they went deeper into the woods.

He brought her on intertwining paths that led through the thick of the forest, along a deep ravine upwards to a small ledge that suddenly opened up over the valley. It was framed by tall, dark trees and bushes, their branches still bare due to the winter. But the lack of leaves did not take away from the beauty of the place. Slowly, Lyssa stepped onto the ledge, her fingers trailing through the branches of the bushes lining it, noticing the little buds where soon the first leaves would sprout. But its true beauty was the view. Beneath them, the forest spread out on rocky mountains and rolling hills until the treeline disappeared and made way for the steppe and dunes towards the shore that lost themselves in the blueish fog of distance. She felt like she could already sense the coast far away, but her eyes were quickly drawn back to the dark wintergreen beneath her. Not too far from them, she could see the tiny columns of smoke from their camp below.

“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed, and Nelos smiled.

“Turn around.”

Even though it was hard to break away from the view, she did as he asked and turned back to him. A gasp escaped her. Only now did she notice the huge statue behind him that lay half-broken and overgrown between the trees. What she had thought to be mere rocks were, in fact, a carefully formed face that had probably once looked out upon the valley. Now, its eyes were blinded by vines, and the stone helmet lay in pieces. A guardian, its features clean-cut and noble, a pointed ear still visible beneath the evergreen leaves crowning it.

Her whole face lit up in excitement and delight, and for a moment, she forgot everything else. There was nothing more intriguing and enticing to her than finding the remnants of their lost culture, to mull over the ancient texts and try to piece together what once had been inextricably connected to their existence.

“I’d hoped you’d like it,” Nelos grinned when he saw her expression. 

“This is incredible!” Lyssa exclaimed softly and rushed past him to examine the statue more closely. “It’s ancient,” she said, running her hand over the smooth stone and pulling away some of the vines to get a closer look. “Look at the way it’s buried! And the style of the helmet… this predates the Dales! Do Deshanna and Meeran know about this?”

“They do,” he nodded. “But it's been years since one of them was here. The Keeper said they had found out all they could about it, but it’s only a statue after all, and too remote to come here regularly.”

Nelos came over to her and touched her arm, to direct her gaze to an old altar that was only half-visible beneath something that looked like it had once been a stone dragon wing. She could see burnt candles and small offerings upon it. Her eyes came back to his face, but he just nodded towards it, wordlessly encouraging her to go and inspect it as well. The rush of excitement of the statue slowly bled out of her as she walked over to the altar, a strange longing wrapping itself around her heart as she carefully touched the small pile of dried berries that lay next to a feather. The altar was well taken care of, the offerings barely older than a few days.

“But you come here regularly,” Lyssa said quietly, her fingers lingering on the altar as she looked back to Nelos who seemed nearly bashful at the intensity of her eyes.

“Yes,” he confirmed, shrugging slightly. His gaze turned back to the valley stretching out beneath them. “I like to think they’re protecting us from up here. And that that is the reason we’ve been coming back here for generations now.”

Lyssa looked at him in astonishment. He seemed so different out here, calmer and focussed out here, somehow more at peace with himself. It was a curious difference to the light-hearted flirting he’d displayed back in the camp. Without saying anything, she turned back to the altar, summoning a mage light that lightened the candles with a small, blue flame. 

“That will keep them burning for much longer,” she told him quietly, and his eyes lit up as he smiled at her. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and something in Lyssa softened at the honesty and warmth she saw in him. Moved by an impulse, Lyssa took the pouch from her belt in which she had collected little treasures she found along the way and took out an owl feather - an offering to Falon’Din, the guide of the dead. She had kept it for a long time now, always passing his statue within the camp, unable to let go, not even to ask for his protection for her mother… but here, it felt like the right place. 

For a moment she looked at the feather with a deep sigh, tears coming to her eyes. With a click of her tongue, she wiped at them, somewhat annoyed at herself. She had managed not to cry for so long, why was she unable to keep them at bay now?

“I can leave you alone if you want me to,” Nelos offered, but Lyssa shook her head.

“No, please, stay,” she pleaded. “It’s just…” She stared at the feather in her hand, and another tear ran down her cheek as her grief and exhaustion caught up with her again. This time, she didn't wipe it away. “She’s dying, Nelos,” she whispered in a broken voice.

His answer was very quiet. “I know.”

Lyssa ran her fingers along the feather’s edge, a soft brown and white against her skin. Her words were barely audible as she said, “She’s the last one. The only one I have left. What do I do once she’s gone?”

Nelos took a step towards her, carefully laying his hand on her shoulder. His voice was very soft as he assured her, “She’s not the only one you have left. You have us.”

Lyssa nodded, suppressing a sob. “I know, but… it’s… what if…” She stared back at the altar, and all the fear and grief within her suddenly broke loose. “It feels like everything I care about is always taken away,” she sobbed. “My freedom and childhood when my magic surfaced. My brothers, my father, and now mama. And I can’t do anything against it.” Now, she was openly crying, unable to stop herself.

She felt herself being pulled into a soothing embrace, and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face at his shoulder. For a long time, he just held her as she cried. Only when her sobs had subsided did he say with a low voice against her hair, “But you are not alone. And you’re Dalish. You’re free. And you’ll always have the clan. Nobody can take that away from you.”

He still held her, and Lyssa took a deep breath, nestling her cheek against his chest. “But I still can’t help her,” she whispered.

“No. But you can be with her.”

Slowly, Lyssa let go of him and wiped her cheeks with a nod. He was right. It was all she could do - but it was also the last and most important gift she could give her mother. “Thank you,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion as she searched his eyes. Nelos just smiled slightly and inclined his head.

She turned back to the altar and put the owl feather next to the candles, and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she centered herself before she spoke in a low, trembling voice, “O Falon'Din, Friend to the Dead. Guide her feet, calm her soul, lead her to her rest.”

The traditional prayer was short, and she could find no more words within herself. Then she turned back to Nelos, and they silently made their way back to the camp.

Just before they reached the camp, Lyssa stopped Nelos. He turned towards her with a questioning look, and she took his hand to give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea what this meant to me,” she said softly. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, returning the squeeze. “And go back whenever you need to. The place is yours now, too.”

“I will,” she nodded, then, after a last smile, went back to her aravel, where Thia still sat, working on a coat. Her welcoming smile turned into worry when she saw Lyssa’s swollen, red-rimmed eyes.

“Are you…,” she started, but Lyssa just nodded.

“I am fine. Thank you, ma’halla. Is she awake?” She looked towards the aravel, but Thia shook her head.

“She’s still sleeping.”

Lyssa took a deep breath, then she said goodbye to her friend and went inside. Her mother was still asleep, her breathing labored. Lyssa sat down next to her and tenderly caressed Darina’s face.

“It’s alright, mama,” she whispered. “I’m fine. You don’t have to hold on for me. Be at peace.”

~~

Darina died a few days later.

~~

A black fist closed over Lyssa’s heart as they laid her mother into the earth and planted a tree atop the grave, darkening everything around her until she felt like there was no color left in the world. She had thought she was prepared, but the first few days, she barely found it in herself to attend to her duties. And every night, she stared into the lone darkness around her, clutching the wooden horse she had brought from Denerim until she fell into a fitful sleep. She had smoothed the jagged edges until there was no longer the danger of splinters where it had once fragmented in her first blast of magic. It was the last remembrance from that day long past, the last day when her family had been as carefree as they could in the alienage.

Slowly, she noticed the little gestures of kindness around her. Thia barely left her side when her duties allowed it, and when she couldn’t be with her, Jhenna was. Camros and his family invited her back to their fire, so she didn’t have to care for everything all by herself; and nearly every day, Nelos found her in the woods, offering quiet companionship and conversation when she felt the loneliest.

Only when she returned to her lessons and duties after a few days, she realized how much she had missed them in the time she cared for her mother. It was similar to when she had first arrived; Lyssa realized one evening when she sat silently between her friends at the fire while they joked and laughed.

Back then, she had also grieved, even if she hadn’t known it. Just like now, she had felt lost and alone, and the clan had offered her solace.

And yet, it was fundamentally different.

Now, she was a part of them, keeping her hands busy with knitting or embroidering their traditional clothes as she sat among them, the familiar words and casual touches weaving a net of warmth and care around her and slowly, without Lyssa even realizing it, the darkness lifted from her heart. 

It was a few weeks after Darina's death that she walked back to the broken statue. She had been back a couple of times, sometimes in Nelos’ company, sometimes alone. But this day, for the first time, she noticed the light young green all around her. A sunbeam fell onto her face, making her blink and then sneeze. Lyssa stopped, halfway to the statue and slowly turned around. Spring had come, truly come. Everywhere, young leaves were sprouting on the trees, and the floor was covered by new wild garlic plants, the faint smell of flowers and wet earth in the air. She took a deep breath, then another, and suddenly, she found herself smile. Her heart that had been aching for so long felt as if it expanded, filled anew with colors and freshness. They would leave the winter quarter soon, she knew, but as she looked around, slowly making her way up towards the broken statue, she did no longer dread their departure - even if it meant leaving her mother's grave behind.

A familiar presence greeted her as she came to the statue, and she stopped in a respectful distance as she saw Nelos laying a bundle of fresh herbs on the altar. A few murmured words drafted towards her on the light breeze, too soft for her to understand, and she waited without disturbing him. Since they had gotten to know each other so much better these last weeks, she had watched him more closely, noticing for the first time all the small acts of kindness he did around the camp. He never tried to get credit for it, brushing over it with his laugh and flirtations. He still had that easy smile and tease, but where she had used to attribute it to a certain superficiality, she now saw how much he used it to deflect questions or conversations when they turned into a direction he didn’t like. T he depth of their friendship was a surprise to many, if not to themselves. In some respects, Lyssa felt as if something had fallen into place, and more than once she wondered why they hadn’t started spending more time with each other sooner.

But then again, it was only now that she discovered character traits in him she had never seen before. For a while, she truly started to doubt her ability to read people, but soon, she knew that there were reasons she hadn’t seen them. Much of who he truly was was hidden away behind his easygoing nature and his laughter. But for all his flirting, Nelos was someone who craved intimacy. Not necessarily physical intimacy, but a true connection to someone. Few, however, could see past his brilliant smile and teases, and fewer even tried to get to truly know him.

In the beginning, he had been surprised, then delighted that Lyssa was not easily distracted by his flirtations. She actually listened to him, and through that managed to coax out what really was on his mind. And Lyssa, in turn, found in him someone who was disarmingly honest in his advice, who shared her enthusiasm for their history and who could make her laugh with ease.

Nelos looked up and gave her a delighted grin when he saw Lyssa. She smiled and came over to him, shielding her eyes from the sun falling through the trees with one hand, her steps light on the ground.

“Come to say good-bye as well?” Nelos asked, and she nodded, laying a bundle of her own next to his, then let her hand run lovingly over the statue’s face, a caress as much as a thank you. 

“Actually, I was hoping to find you,” Lyssa finally admitted, turning back to him.

Nelos furrowed his brow and tilted his head questioningly. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes, nothing to worry about,” she quickly assured him. For a moment, she just looked at him, noticing the little signs of both amusement and concern at her scrutiny. When she didn’t immediately continue, he huffed a little laugh, his eyes twinkling.

“Well, then…” he started, and Lyssa felt her cheeks burn. But still, she took a step towards him with a small gesture.

“I… I’m sorry; I’m trying to find the right words.” She took a deep breath. She had thought about what to say for a while now, but even though she had come to trust him intimately, this felt nearly as personal as that day when he had held her as she cried. “I wanted to apologize,” she finally managed in a low voice.

Nelos looked at her in surprise. “Apologize? For what?”

_No backing out now._ “For taking you for granted all this time. I brushed you off as a flirt, without looking beyond the smiles and teasing. I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened slightly and for a second, he looked like he was at a loss for words. Then he shrugged, one corner of his lips lifting in that well-practiced perfect way. “Well, to be fair, they are pretty amazing smiles and teases.” 

Lyssa laughed, her embarrassment falling off her with the sound. Even though she knew exactly what he was doing, it was one of his talents to make people around him comfortable. “True, but beside my point,” she chastised him amusedly and closed the distance between them. The smile on her lips softened slightly as she stood in front of him, taking one of his hands, interlacing her fingers with his. “I won’t forget what you did for me these last weeks. And I’ll be there for you just as you were for me. Just so you know.”

Nelos’ eyes softened as he looked down on her, and gave her a squeeze. “Ma serannas,” he said quietly.

Lyssa felt their moment of connection just as directly as the sun playing on her skin or the wind ruffling her hair and smiled up at him, something in her easing even more in his proximity. She was by now so comfortable in his presence that she started to notice little quirks, and the way he looked at her told her that he was touched by her words, more than he let on. 

“So you also think my smiles and teases are amazing, yes?” Nelos asked, deceptively casual, as they started to walk back down towards the camp, directly followed by an indignant yelp as Lyssa’s elbow met his ribs. Her laughter trailed off between the tall trees as they disappeared into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dalathin - little heart, endearment between friends  
> ma'halla - my halla, also an endearment between friends  
> ma serannas - Thank you.


	6. The Arrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeees, I know, tropey-di-trope-trope. I don't care. I love this one and I won't apologize ;)

Lyssa looked up from the tunic she was mending when the first signal arrow whistled through the rain pouring down from a cloudy, grey sky. The summer was at its peak, and the days were normally long and hot, mostly with just a soft wind in the top of the trees and the song of crickets an endless background noise. Today, though, clouds had gathered to bring a bout of much-needed rain, and most of the clan had settled beneath the various awnings spread between the aravels and trees. A steady drizzle was falling since the last night, a misty grey in the air.

“What’s going on?” Ilaan, Camros’ mother, asked, coming out of the aravel at the sound of the signal arrow. Lyssa had come back to live with them after her mother’s death, and they had basically adopted her, treating her as another of their children.

“I don’t know,” Lyssa answered, “Hopefully just someone passing by.” She stabbed the needle into the half-finished stitch before she put the tunic back into the sewing basket. Just as she was getting up, another arrow pierced the air, and she frowned. “Seems like we’re out of luck.”

Two signal arrows meant someone approaching the camp. They were not far away from a settlement, so it could just be one of the farmers who had come to trade, but the lookouts knew most of them and would not raise the alarm for just anyone. Ilaan and Lyssa exchanged a worried look. Just as Lyssa took her staff that was leaning against the aravel, she saw Meeran strutting towards one of the entrances to the campsite.

“Be careful, d’ashalan,” Ilaan said, and Lyssa saw the worry on her face. She gave the older woman a smile as she pulled up her hood.

“I will.”

Then she hurried through the rain until she caught up with Meeran. He nodded in greeting, a small smile on his lips that did not quite reach his eyes. He looked serious and focussed. Part of their responsibilities as First and Second to the Keeper was to take care of the clan, which also meant providing protection from threats and trying to defuse situations before they could escalate, before the warleader would be needed to coordinate a defense or attack.

“Is there trouble?” she asked, quickening her steps to keep up with him, but Meeran just shrugged.

“I don’t know yet. But better to be safe,” he said, grasping his own staff more tightly. Together, they walked up to where two of their scouts blocked the way for a small group of humans. Lyssa quickly checked some of the trees flanking them, confirming that more of their hunters were positioned just out of sight, ready to strike. It was both reassuring and worrying. If they were already in position, it meant that the humans did not come to trade. They had weapons at the ready.

Even from a distance, Lyssa could see that something was indeed wrong. A tall human woman was arguing with one of the scouts, her agitated gesturing a clear indication that she was far from calm. Her face was distorted in disgust and rage as she yelled at the elf before her.

“… no coincidence that we’ve caught nothing since you’ve arrived!”

Now, Lyssa recognized the scout as Nelos, and her heart skipped a beat at seeing him so directly confronted with danger. For the last months, they had spent nearly every day with each other, a yearning waking inside her that she had tried to keep hidden for a while now. She had never wanted to become just another one of the many poor souls professing their undying love to Nelos without hope. And yet, with every day they had spent with each other, with every talk about something that was close to their hearts, she had fallen more and more for him. By now, they were so comfortable with each other that she felt like she knew his very being and vice versa. There was no pretending with him. She felt _home_ with him. But so far, she hadn’t seen anything that indicated he felt the same. There had been moments when she had wanted to tell him how she felt, but she had never followed through, scared of destroying what they had with each other.

But now, that he stood unwaveringly before the agitated, raging human brandishing a sword, she felt cold. What if she lost the chance to ever tell him? Lyssa took a deep breath and chased the thought away. None of that mattered now. Her feelings were not what was at stake right now. His life was.

Nelos calmly stood his ground, barely blinking, even when the human spit on the ground in front of him. “You’re gonna leave! Or we’re gonna set the templars upon you to deal with the witches and abominations in your blighted camp, do you hear me, knife-ear?!” the woman hissed at him, but neither Nelos nor the other scout, Athera, answered to the threat. Both of them had their hoods down, water dropping out of their hair, faces hard and unrelenting.

Lyssa stayed a few steps behind while Meeran went over to the group, her whole body tense. It was not the first time that a village blamed them for some bad luck they had - a streak of empty rabbit traps, a sickness, a failed crop. And the Dalish elves that were traveling through were an easy target, unprotected by the law. But while it was an aggravating situation every time, it mostly ended there: a few insults and threats, then the Dalish left to find a more secure spot far from human settlements.

From the looks of it, though, there was the definite danger that this would escalate. It was rare that the humans threatened with templars, and it pointed to a more specific issue they had than with just the clan staying close by. Lyssa still hadn’t quite lost her fear of the order, and there was a reason why they stayed away from the bigger cities that had a Circle. There was no use in provoking a confrontation. While the templars mostly were content with leaving the Dalish to their own devices, there were no assurances that it stayed that way when a complaint was made.

Lyssa barely listened to what Meeran said as he stepped up to the woman, Nelos and Athera immediately flanking him, weapons still drawn. “Good woman, what seems to be the problem?” she heard him say in his calm, friendly voice, while Lyssa herself watched the humans behind their leader. All of them had weapons, from crude swords to bows to pitchforks, some seemed angry, some frightened.

And everyone was tense.

Too tense.

Lyssa’s fingers tightened on her staff, ready to cast barriers if necessary.

The woman turned her eyes on Meeran, retreating a hasty step backward as she saw his staff. “You! You are the problem!” The woman pointed at him, then, when she caught sight of Lyssa, at her. “Apostates! We will not allow you to taint our land!”

Lyssa just pressed her lips together and raised her chin defiantly, swallowing her nervousness. Her eyes flickered to Meeran, waiting for his signal to raise the barriers, but he just held up a hand, slowly and soothingly, his dark hair glistening in the rain. Lyssa marveled at the way his voice was both steady and calm, unthreatening but without giving in. “We don’t want a fight,” he said. “The clan will leave in a few days, and you have our word that -“

Meeran had no chance to finish his sentence.

Without warning, the human jumped forward and drove her sword into his stomach. The rest of his words left him in a big gush of air; then, with a wet sound, blood bubbled from his lips. For the tiniest moment, nothing and nobody seemed to move, the raindrops hanging motionless in the humid air. Then, the world exploded into screaming and the clang of weapons, arrows buzzing through the air, the sizzle of Lyssa’s magic making the raindrops hiss as she instinctively threw a barrier over their scouts and sent the human flying with a crackling lightning bolt. A burning, hot pain shot through her as she saw Meeran stagger backward, his staff clattering uselessly to the ground. His fingers clawed at the sword still protruding from his stomach as he fell heavily to his knees. Lyssa threw another barrier around her people, freezing one of the humans just before he could attack, then she started towards Meeran, slipping on the wet grass. She saw Athera’s knives shatter the ice-blue form, another human falling under Nelos’ blades, the rest of them being pinned to the ground by their hunters’ arrows. The fight seemed to be over nearly as quickly and suddenly as it had begun.

There was no clear thought in Lyssa’s head, just a jumbled mess of shock and pain and the desperate need to help her friend as she stumbled towards Meeran as soon as she knew her clan mates were safe. She had just reached him when he started to topple sidewards, pulling her down to her knees as she tried to hold him upright.

“Meeran!” she tried to yell, but all that came from her lips was a painful, choked gasp. He was too heavy for her, every bit of body tension gone, and he slipped through her hands, falling motionless to the ground. A part of her realized what this meant, but she did not want to think it, she did not want to believe it. “No!”

One of the others seemed to have heard her desperate sound, because, in the next second, someone was with her, gripping both her shoulders. With an effort of will, she turned her attention back to the fight, trying to see who needed her help, what to do next, but everything had begun to blur together, and she blinked several times to try and get her focus back.

Was it the rain that washed away the colors, she wondered idly, the sound of it drowning out everything else. Then she realized that it was Nelos before her, holding her, his grey eyes wide as the horizon. ‘I could get lost in these eyes’, she thought and smiled, raising a hand to his face.

_Red._

There was another color left, she saw, frowning at the trail her fingertips had left on his cheek.

“Lyssa! Lyssa!!”

He was calling her name. “Yes?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“You’re hurt. Sylaise help, you’re hurt. Stay with me, you hear? Stay with me!”

“Silly. I’m not going anywhere,” Lyssa murmured, her words blurring together. Only then did the rest of his words register in her consciousness.

Hurt? She was hurt?

Confused, Lyssa looked down. Her hands were drenched in blood, and there was _something_ wrong, something that did not belong to her. Carefully, she touched it, and another streak of fire shot through her, making her gasp in pain. _An arrow._ There was an arrow protruding from her side. That explained the fire in her body, she thought. And the growing puddle of blood beneath her that mixed with Meeran’s blood. Her hands began to shake, and she looked back at Nelos and the trail of blood she had painted on his cheek. The view brought reality back into focus with a painful snap, and suddenly, the sounds, colors, and emotions rushed back.

The fire from where the arrow stuck in her side raced through her body, and with a painful whimper, she tried to grab Nelos’ arms to steady herself, as if his presence was the only thing being able to provide some kind of anchor. But her fingers kept slipping away from his arm, all strength seeming to have seeped out of her. A dark fear rose within her as she realized just how bad it was. She could die. _Like Meeran._ She could lose it all. She could lose _him_.

The drizzle of rain was running down her face, Nelos’ desperate voice as he called her name again fading into the background as she slumped down into his arms. In a corner of her consciousness, she registered that Nelos scooped her up without further ado and raced with her back into the camp. Agitated yelling surrounded them, shreds of shouted conversations. And beneath it all, the shrill buzzing of pain.

Another hot streak of pain shot through her as she was put down, and there was a scream - _hers?_ \- then she felt Nelos let go of her. _No, don’t go, don’t leave me!_

She wasn’t sure whether she had actually said it or if it had only been in her thoughts, but she felt him grab her hand, and her fingers tightened around his. Above her, she could see the light green of an awning and several people moving in and out of her perception.

“Hold her arms.”

That was Ivea’s voice.

Lyssa felt her arms being pinned to the ground, and then, Nelos’ face was above her. “Look at me, Lyssa. Just look at me. It’ll be alright.”

She just nodded, her eyes wide with fear and pain, burning into his. She knew what was going to happen - Ivea would take the arrow out. Her breath came in short, painful bursts as her fingers clawed into his arms.

“Nelos,” she whispered, her heart beating hard, and he smiled down at her, a futile try to cover the anguish in his eyes. Lyssa tuned out everything but him - the sounds of running feet, the bleating of halla and snapping of ropes as they were loosened fading beyond the reddish fog of pain in her body.

“I’m here,” Nelos said, “I’m here.”

Lyssa tried to hold his gaze, a desperate urgency in her voice. “I love you.”

She saw his eyes come into focus, widening as her words hit home, then she felt a sharp _tug_ , and the world exploded into a fire of pain before everything just… stopped.

~~

  


~~

The light was warm and dim, a reddish shimmer to it as she woke. A fresh smell of herbs and salves lay in the air beneath a slight cool draft.

Tiredly, Lyssa blinked into the light of the single candle that burned next to her bed, the flickering flame painting mesmerizing patterns on the walls of the aravel. A heavy fog lay on her mind, and for a long moment, she had difficulties forming any coherent thought. With an effort, she finally tried to sit up, only to fall back into the pillow with a gasp as a sharp pain shot through her. It chased away the remaining sluggishness in her brain, and Lyssa’s hands clawed into the blanket as the memory of what happened came back. _Meeran. The arrow._

With careful movements, she pulled the blanket aside and looked down. A clean bandage was wrapped around her torso, the familiar smell of Ivea’s healing salve wafting up to her. The pain had subsided again, a clear sign that she was heavily dosed with potions. Lyssa held out a hand over the injury, trying to conjure her magic. She only managed to send a short burst of healing through herself before dark spots began to dance in front of her eyes, and she sank back with a sigh, pulling the blanket back up.

Now the familiar interior of the aravel made sense, even if it wasn’t the one she and her family traveled with. This was Ivea’s aravel, the one reserved for those who had been injured - but since Ivea wasn’t here, they were probably not traveling right now.

A small sound made her look up, and she stilled. On a little bench beneath one of the windows next to the bed, a person was sleeping, head leaning against the wall, legs drawn up.

Nelos.

He was still wearing his armor, and his knives were lying on the floor next to him. Had he stayed with her this whole time? A warm feeling went through her, and she quickly blinked to keep the tears at bay that pricked at the corner of her eyes.

Right at that moment, he stirred, taking a deep breath as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. His dark hair was disheveled, his clothes crumbled, but she felt like he had never looked more handsome as he looked over to her, his whole face lighting up in relief as he met her eyes.

“Lyssa!” he exclaimed softly, scampering up and over to her, where he took her hand into both of his as he sat down on her bed. “You’re awake.”

For a second, she could do nothing but look at him, happiness and relief washing over her as he smiled at her. He was here. She hadn’t lost him. It took her a moment to find her voice again. “How long have I been out?”

“Three days. We only stopped a few hours ago.” He looked at her with a softness she hadn’t seen in him before, and her fingers tightened around his. She could feel her heart pounding, but before anything else, she needed to know how bad it was.

Her voice was barely audible as she asked, “Meeran?”

Nelos only shook his head, and tears sprang into her eyes. Meeran had been the one who had rescued her and her mother nearly four years ago. He had been the first to show her how to heal with her magic and had become a quiet, caring friend, always checking in on them. And now she had been there… and hadn’t been able to save him. Another loss. Before the sob she felt in her heart could break free, she cleared her throat, wiping her eyes with her free hand. “And the others?” she asked quietly.

“He was the only one we lost. Some bruises, some cuts, nothing serious.” Nelos looked at her warmly. “We were worried about you for a while, though.”

Lyssa’s eyes softened before she asked, “Were you here the whole time?”

He shrugged slightly before he nodded, a somewhat sheepish look on his face. “I was. I couldn’t leave you. Not after…” His voice trailed off, his eyes burning into hers, and Lyssa blushed deeply.

“About what I said,” she started, a pleading note to her voice, “I’m sorry I just dumped that on you, and in this way. That was unfair, and I wanted to tell you differently, I really did, but I never… it never felt like the right time.” It was a bad excuse, and she knew it. So she just kept talking before he could react. “I was afraid. I was afraid it would change everything. And I… if you want me to never speak of it again, I won’t. I promise I won’t try to stop you from flirting; I won’t be a nuisance. I just wanted to let you know how I felt, in case it was my last chance.” Her words had come more and more slowly in the end, and there was a certain helplessness in them, as she finished with, “I’m sorry.”

Amusement twinkled in Nelos’ eyes as he looked at her. “Are you done?” he asked, and she took a breath, then nodded, her heart in her throat. “You know, I had this whole speech prepared,” he said, bringing one hand to her cheek, softly caressing her heated skin. Lyssa’s eyes widened at the touch, and her heart skipped a beat. Nelos smiled. “But in the end, there’s just one thing that matters. I love you, too.”

And then he was kissing her, and Lyssa felt as if the world stopped moving. His lips tenderly brushed over hers, carefully and slowly. There was no hurry in his touch, as if he had all the time in the world. Instinctively, Lyssa’s hand came up to his face, then she kissed him back, her lips opening beneath his. Nelos’ hand wandered onto her neck, pulling her very carefully closer as he deepened the kiss, and for a brief, blissful time nothing mattered but the sensation of his lips on hers, and the overwhelming happiness coursing through her. _He loved her!_ When they parted after what seemed an eternity, a tingling sensation was on Lyssa’s lips, and she smiled with closed eyes, savoring the feeling. When she opened them again, Nelos was looking at her with a soft smile.

“How did I not know?” Lyssa asked incredulously, making him laugh.

“Because you don’t see everything, ma’lath, as much as you want to. Especially when it concerns yourself.” He leaned forward, touching his forehead against hers, mirth in his voice. Then he kissed her again, just a short touch of his lips against hers before he pulled back again.

“And now I’m going to keep my promise to Ivea and go tell her that you’re awake. If she finds out I did not run out the second you woke, she’ll have my hide. That was basically the only reason she let me stay.”

Reluctantly, Lyssa let go of him, even if she couldn’t deny the fact that she started to feel exhaustion pull at her, despite the rush of happiness at Nelos’ confession. “Will you be back?” she asked, sinking back into the pillow.

“I promise,” he smiled. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> d'ashalan - "given daughter", basically an endearment for an adoptive daughter  
> ma'lath - my love


	7. Night and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blink twice, and a month is gone... But I have a lot ready, and the next chapter will come soon. As will everything beyond it. Thanks for your continued support and let me know what you think! ♥

_ I love you. _

The words became a constant in her life.

I love you, murmured into her hair, onto her lips between kisses, whispered in the night, breathlessly against hot skin and into the curve of her neck.

I love you, in a look and a wink, in a touch and a dance, in the way his fingers curled into her hair, in the light in his eyes when he laughed.

I love you, his voice strong and proud in another summer’s heat as he promised to stay at her side, always, and put a crown of flowers onto her head before Deshanna bound their hands together.

It carried her on happiness’ wings through two winters and into another summer that found them curled into each other at night, fingers intertwining and trailing over naked skin, the days spent in familiarity and ease.

He found her before they left for a small town to trade. “I’ll see you when we’re back, vhenan,” Nelos murmured and kissed her. “I love you.”

~~

Lyssa could see that something was wrong the minute Nelos came back, tension in every movement and worry in his face. He came over to give her a quick kiss, but she could feel that his mind was somewhere else entirely.

“What happened?” Her voice was anxious as she watched him put down his bow and pack, his worry noticeable in every tense movement. She looked at him, her hands motionless in the bread dough she had been kneading, waiting for him to elaborate.

“The shemlen didn’t like our prices,” Nelos said and started to gather their things. Lyssa’s eyes widened and she stopped her work, taking her hands out of the dough. It wasn’t unusual for human merchants to dislike it when the Dalish came to trade, and it mostly was about the prices. Most of the merchants were professionals and didn’t make a fuss because they knew the Dalish would be gone in a few days anyway, but some wouldn’t back down. But while arguments weren’t unusual, Nelos wasn’t normally this bothered by them, especially not enough to cause him to start packing.

His next words, however, explained his worry. “He said we stole from him and that was why we could afford to sell so low. Tairion is talking to the Keeper. We need to leave. Quickly.”

Lyssa immediately straightened and quickly wiped her hands on a cloth, her heart clenching anxiously. An accusation like that was out of the ordinary. Not so uncommon as to be unheard of, but mostly, the shems stopped at insults. But to be accused of an actual crime was a situation that could become dangerous.

She looked over to the Keeper’s aravel, seeing her deep in conversation with Tairion, worry in both their faces. She watched them for a few moments and nodded when she saw them come to a conclusion.

“You’re right. We’re leaving,” she said as she brushed the flour from her hands. Nelos looked up from where he was carrying a basket into their aravel and followed her eyes to the Keeper. A quick smile flickered over his lips, and he shook his head as he looked back to his wife.

“I’ll never get how you do that,” he wondered, as the Keeper stepped into the open space before her aravel and announced that they would pack and leave immediately.

Lyssa smiled and shrugged. “It’s just a matter of looking close enough,” she said as she put a damp cloth over the dough. With a bit of luck, it would be good to finish tomorrow.

As she helped Nelos put their belongings away, a flurry of activity broke out around the camp. They all knew what to do in such a situation, and wherever she looked, Lyssa could see nothing but calm determination in people’s faces as they quickly started to gather their things. 

The scouts sounded the alarm just as they were harnessing the halla. Dusk had fallen, and an eerily dim light lay in the clearing where they had camped. Lyssa and Nelos exchanged an alarmed look as the first shouts flew through the camp, orders to the hunters and calls to the children to get inside.

“So soon?” she asked, as he grabbed his bow with a grim look. Lyssa took up her staff the moment she had freed the halla again, so that they wouldn’t crash or overturn the aravel in a panic during the attack.

“They must have followed us immediately. Looks like he was more pissed than we thought. Be careful, vhenan,” Nelos murmured, giving her a small smile.

“You too, ma’lath,” she answered. Then they raced off to their positions to defend the camp.

Lyssa hurried around the camp, laying wards on every aravel she passed after she had made sure that the children were safely inside. Each of them knew exactly where to be and what to do in these situations, but despite their drills, fear lay in the air. Suppressed sobs and crying could be heard from every other corner, where terrified children pressed themselves against their parents or older siblings, the hunters grabbing more arrows or drawing their knives with a determined, grim look in their faces. The wind brought the first scent of the torches that were being carried towards them. Lyssa couldn’t help the fear dawning in her at the smell. This was no normal attack.

“Done?” Deshanna asked Lyssa when she came to meet her, nothing but a grim resolve in her face.

“Done. I’ll go support the front,” she answered, and the Keeper nodded, laying a barrier around them both before they hurried in opposite directions. This wasn’t the time for long discussions.

Lyssa had hoped she would have the opportunity to lay a few rune traps, but she hadn’t even reached the closest hunters when the whining whistle of a signal arrow warned them about the closing enemy. Suddenly, the air was filled with the roar of charging warriors from beneath the darkness of the trees, and without thinking, she let her magic rise within her, raising her staff and slamming it down again, letting loose a bolt of lightning that met with armor and then jumped to the next, and the next. The first man twitched like a puppet before collapsing, a broadsword falling to the ground.

‘They sent the guard after us,’ she thought at the sight of his armor, and a jolt of fear went through her. Most of the time if they had had to fight with the clan, it had been a matter of handling angry farmers or villagers who had never been properly trained to fight. But guards were another matter entirely — and the clan had been caught while packing.

Torches were hurled towards them, most falling uselessly to the ground, one or two reaching their goal and setting fire to an aravel’s sails. Lyssa could feel Deshanna’s magic crackling in the air, making the hairs in her neck rise as she went about freezing and extinguishing the flames and resetting the triggered wards. Arrows started to rain down, and screams filled the air, accompanied by the copper smell of blood, despite the barrier that Lyssa had thrown around everyone in her vicinity.

There was no time to think. More people appeared around her, and Lyssa acted purely on instinct, letting her magic guide her. She dodged a knife here and just barely sidestepped an arrow there, taking down the archer with a firebolt before she laid another barrier around the hunters she saw fighting ahead. Spinning as she advanced, her fingers tingling with magic, her breath rapid, she renewed the wards at the closest aravels again before letting loose the next lightning bolt, ignoring the screams coming from her right side, knowing Deshanna would deal with whatever was happening there. By now she had reached the edge of the clearing, throwing barriers around her people, extinguishing flames and trying to push the humans back beneath the trees where the hunters would be able to deal with them. Most of their attackers wielded swords or even broadswords which would be close to useless in the thick of the underwood.

She did not see the man coming. A guttural roar was behind her, and the second she turned, her world exploded in red pain as a broad-shouldered man slammed his armored fist into her face. Her staff fell to the ground as she flew back against a tree and collapsed, gasping for air and only tasting blood.

For a second, she couldn’t see anything, couldn’t move, blinking desperately. The black fog before her eyes dissipated slowly as a huge figure rose above her, raising a blade. She reacted instinctively, and in the blink of an eye, she had let loose a mental wave of attack. She had no time to panic, struggling to her feet as the warrior before her staggered back, nearly losing the grip on his sword. Lyssa used the chance to desperately search for her staff so that she could focus her magic better, but it lay useless on the ground, too far away for her to reach. Her eyes flew back to the attacker, taking in his short-cropped blond hair, the stubble of beard, the scar splitting his lip, the broad shoulders and dark eyes, the snarl as he bared his teeth at her, the grip of his hands tightening around his broadsword. Her fear was a tightly woven knot in her stomach as she stumbled and wiped the blood out of her eyes, starting for her staff at the same moment he regained his balance. With two quick steps, he cut her off from her weapon, sidestepping the fireball she desperately threw at him with ease. It dissipated at the next tree, barely enough power in it to scorch.

Desperation rose in her as Lyssa realized that without her staff, she would be no match for him. She still felt dizzy from the blow to her head, her focus askew, and the lightning she tried to summon fizzled in her palm and died before she could let it loose. If she couldn’t get him away from her staff, he would cut her down. He forced her back a few steps with a well-aimed swing of his sword, and she saw that he knew it as well. A cruel grin was on his lips as he straightened and advanced on her. 

Lyssa tried to feint to the side, throwing him off balance with another fireball and a mind blast, but her strength was fading, and he shook it off, the steel in his hand glinting from a fire somewhere behind her. She panted in desperation, as she had to give another step, and another.

Suddenly, a figure flew from the shadows, knives blinking in the dim light of falling night and fire, tackling the warrior. Lyssa’ eyes grew wide with fear as she recognized her husband, but she bit back the outcry that was on her lips for fear of distracting him. His bow was nowhere to be seen, his quiver empty as he danced back from the man on light feet. What Nelos lacked in strength he made up in speed and grace, his knives swirling through the air. The human had instinctively raised his blade as Nelos attacked him, so the slash intended for his neck only met the armor on his arm, but the second blow slashed his forehead and the man roared with fury, grabbing his sword with both hands again.

For a split second, Nelos’ eyes flickered to her. “Lyssa, go!”

Without wasting another moment, Lyssa made a sprint for her staff, barely evading another arrow. The sound of steel on steel behind her raised the hairs on her neck as she slid on the moist grass. Blade met blade, a grunt, and an angry shout cut through the air, as she grabbed the smooth wood of her staff, whirling around and raising it instantly. She saw the barrier forming around Nelos in the same instant as the human blocked a hit and crashed his elbow into Nelos’ cheek, making him stumble back. The barrier broke, its greenish shimmer disappearing the second the human roared and brought up his blade again, slashing Nelos’ throat.

“NO!”

Sparks were dancing through the air like fireflies, playing hide and seek with the shadows between the trees. The drops of blood spraying from Nelos’ neck were a deep, dark red, so dark that they looked nearly black. Somewhere in the sky, the first stars came to life as Lyssa‘s scream split the air. A strand of his black hair was plastered across Nelos’ forehead and the intricately adorned hilts of his knives, inlaid with gold, glittered in the shine of the fires as they fell out of his hands. A last sputter of blood fell from his lips as he met the ground in a horrible thud, his eyes already empty as his body grew dreadfully still.

Lyssa stared, motionless with horror as an arrow crossed between herself and the warrior, meeting the ground uselessly. Every breath she took burned within her breast as if the very air was on fire. Slowly, her eyes went up to the human. Lyssa could see the blond curls over his forehead, his brown, gritted teeth, a speck of spit hanging at the stubble on his chin, blood streaming down from where Nelos had cut his forehead, painting a bloody mask on his face. Then he raised his sword again, and she saw the fresh, dark blood rolling down over the shimmering steel, and a pain so intense she had never thought it possible crashed over Lyssa. A dark whisper was deep within her as she looked back at the man, and then the world was on fire.

The warrior’s grin faltered as he looked at her. Something made him take a step back, but it was too late. The white fireball she threw at him engulfed him completely, setting fire to his hair, and Lyssa could see the blood on his face start to boil in an instant. His dying scream rose up into the falling night, then it stopped abruptly as he crumbled to the ground.

He was one of the last to die. When Lyssa turned, helpless, desperate in her grief, she saw the last humans calling off their attack, disappearing into the woods again, and the aravels that had caught fire were extinguished.

The night sky was dark and moonless above them as she saw the hunters go around camp, gathering arrows and speeding those along who were beyond any healing. The air still smelled like smoke and blood, and darkness had fallen completely. She saw Deshanna walk around the aravels, making sure that everyone was safe. The first halla were already being called back, and Ivea hurried around camp, tending to the wounded.

Lyssa knew that she should help. She knew she  _ had _ to help, but her legs wouldn’t comply. The night seemed too dark, too sharp around the edges, her lungs still burning with every breath she took. Something dripped on her hand, and as she looked down, she saw that it was blood, droplets still falling from her face where the man had backhanded her.

Deshanna stopped next to her, a blood smear over her forehead. “Lyssa, are you hurt?” she said, not even noticing the bodies behind her First. “Do you need help? We need to get moving.”

Lyssa shook her head, still unable to speak. Her eyes were wide and dull, every bit of energy she had left gone.

Deshanna let out a breath, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Good then. Find Nelos, then ready your aravel. We can’t linger.”

Deshanna hurried on, calling out to several others to ready the aravels, and Lyssa forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, swaying for a second. Not far from her, Lyssa saw one of the hunters, his face tear-streaked, wrapping his husband’s lifeless body in cloth for travel. Something inside of her broke at the sight, but she knew what she had to do. As she walked on, a dark pain started to fill her whole body, making her limbs heavy and cold, her steps slow and deliberate.

Just as she reached their aravel, Thia appeared, bringing one of her halla. “Here, I found him back with the herd. Do you want me to…”

Her voice, low with exhaustion, trailed off as she saw Lyssa take out the woolen covering she and Nelos had used as a blanket.

“Oh no,” she whispered, and a sob broke from her lips as she clasped a hand to her mouth. She knew what it meant.

Lyssa just nodded, her fingers digging into the blanket until they went numb. Thia let go of the halla and reached for her, but Lyssa took a step back. She couldn't bear the thought of someone touching her, not now, not like this. If Thia embraced her now, she would break down… and she couldn't break now. Not yet.

“Could you…” she croaked, her voice strange to her ears, hoarse and broken, gesturing at the halla.

Thia nodded immediately, tears running over her face, and Lyssa nodded slightly before she turned away, her steps halting and slow as she walked back to where Nelos lay in the darkness, alone and unseen. For a moment, she held the blanket to her face, inhaling the smell, sealing it into her memory, then she laid it down, spreading it out next to him.

“Vhenan,” she whispered as she knelt beside him. There was a pool of blood beneath him, shimmering black on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring through her, the gaping wound in his neck a horrible, reddish black. Lyssa ignored it, tenderly closing his eyes and wiping the hair and blood out of his face, her fingers wandering lovingly over the lines of his face. She knew she should hurry, that she should wrap him quickly into the blanket to get going, but for the moment she was unable to.

Her lips quivered as she kissed his cold lips, and silent tears fell on his face as she sang.

“Tel’enfenim, vhenan...  irassal ma ghilas…” Her voice broke over the old lullaby as she carefully pulled him onto the blanket. As she covered his face, she felt as though something of herself had died with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vhenan - heart  
> Ma'lath - my love  
> Tel’enfenim, vhenan... irassal ma ghilas… - A modification of a Dalish lullaby. These two lines mean "Never fear, my heart, wherever you shall go".
> 
> The original reads:  
> Tel'enfenim, da'len - Never fear, little one  
> Irassal ma ghilas - Wherever you shall go  
> Ma garas mir renan - Follow my voice  
> Ara ma'athlan vhenas - I will call you home


	8. Do you dare

With Nelos’ death, summer had lost its beauty and warmth, and for the longest time, Lyssa felt numb, as if with him, every emotion had been buried by dark earth. It was hard to focus, every breath an effort. She came to dread the mornings because they took her out of the dreams where she could be with him, even if many were nightmares showing her these last, horrible moments where she had to watch him die over and over again.

She did what she had always done in times of grief - she buried herself in work and cared for others. Jhenna had lost her husband as well during the vicious attack, and without second thought, the two friends had started to share a fire to deal with their losses. Helping Jhenna with her now fatherless children kept Lyssa from just wanting to scream every night, and slowly, with every smile she forced onto her face for them, it became easier.

For many months, the clan kept away from any human settlement, mourning the deaths of too many of their hunters. Wherever they stopped, Lyssa went to seek out the places she had visited with Nelos and planted another tree, another guardian over her memories of him.

The autumn storms brought back the first feeling that seemed to be more than just a mask she put on for Fenan and Mahana, Jhenna’s children, and winter took some of the weight out of her limbs. 

They had made camp in their winter quarter a few weeks ago, and Lyssa had just walked around the perimeter to renew their wards when she found herself at an only too familiar, half-hidden path.

As she looked up the ravine, she hesitated, then took a first step… then another. Nearly without thinking about it, she walked upwards along the ravine, her feet getting heavier with each step. Her throat closed as she neared the outlook, but she forced herself to continue, every breath hurting. The statue was just as she remembered it. The vines had grown back, but the eyes were still serene and clear, watching over the valley stretching before it.   
With a sigh that quickly turned into a sob, she looked around, the grief hitting her with an intensity that brought her to her knees.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying, screaming, until her throat was raw, and there were no tears left. Twilight already softened the edges of the deepening shadows as she finally picked herself up and walked over to the altar, lighting the candles with another mage light. As she put a new owl feather upon it, whispering a prayer, her heart felt heavy and easier at the same time. When spring would come, she would plant a tree here as well, she promised him without words. It would outlive her, but for as long as there would be wind in the trees planted in his name, there would be something of him in this world.

Lyssa kept her promise, and when she came back the next winter, and the next, looking into the branches rustling in the wind, her grief had softened into a the loving memory of what they had shared, and the thought of him no longer brought her tears, but a smile.

~~

“Hello puppy,” Lyssa greeted the child crawling towards her as she sat at the fire and prepared the evening meal. She was wearing a heavy tunic, a shawl arranged around her shoulders. Firstfall had brought the first wave of snow and cold winds but the clan’s winter quarter was protected by a rock overhang that was just short of qualifying as a cave. They had positioned the supply aravels in a half circle around the campsite with the smaller living aravels inside and arranged the sails in a way that they were protected from the worst of the winds. It was still cold, but the boy seemed not to care. She gave him a smile, but he scowled at her.

“No! I’m a kitten!” he protested, pointedly meowing. Lyssa laughed.

“Apologies, kitty. Care for some cake?” She wiped her hands and offered him one of the small cakes she had taken out of the embers not long ago. A sweet, honeyed smell wafted through the air, and the child quickly jumped up, his face lighting up. “Yes!” He started to reach for it, then stopped and looked at his mother somewhat guiltily.

“May I, mamae?”

Jhenna raised one eyebrow, her hands not stopping her needlework where she mended another one of his trousers.

“Pleeeeeeeease,” Fenan made, giving her his best puppy-slash-kitten eyes.

She just shook her head, but she smiled. “Very well then. But just the one!”

“Thank you!” He quickly grabbed the cake before she could change her mind, a big, delighted grin on his face and ran away with it.

Jhenna shook her head as she watched her son disappear around the corner of the aravel. “You spoil him too much.”

Lyssa shrugged completely unapologetically and laughed. “Who if not I? It’s the privilege of aunts.”

A voice interrupted their laughter. “Lyssa?”

She looked up and saw Deshanna approaching her. Suddenly, the smile died on her face. The Keeper’s face was so serious as nearly to be stern, her eyes anxious. Lyssa tensed, and her hands sank into her lap. Whatever Deshanna had to tell her was important - and definitely nothing Lyssa would enjoy, she could read that much in her face. Her throat closed in anticipation. Jhenna knew Lyssa well enough to read the alarm in her face and looked anxiously to the Keeper, her needle frozen in midair. “Do we have to leave?” she asked, horrified. But the Keeper shook her head.

“No, don’t worry. We are safe here. I just have to talk to Lyssa for a moment.”

Lyssa took a deep breath and wiped the worried look from her face, giving Jhenna an apologetic smile before she got up. “I’m coming, Keeper.”

She expected the Keeper to guide her towards her aravel, but instead, Deshanna took her on a walk around the camp.

“How are you, Lyssa?” she asked, smiling at another elf who passed them and Lyssa blinked, her eyebrows slightly furrowed at the odd question.

“I am fine,” she said. “Fenan is back to full strength after his cold.”

The Keeper nodded. “Good. Your arrangement turned out quite well, didn’t it?”

“It has indeed.” Lyssa wondered where Deshanna was going with this. They were friends, and none of this was news to her.

“Good,” Deshanna repeated, nodding again. They took another turn around an aravel and Lyssa habitually checked the wards.

“The salves have turned out very well this year, and I’m really looking forward to heading back to the ruins,” she kept talking when the Keeper did not continue. “I still think there is a way to get behind the cave-in and I have a feeling that we’ll find something there.”

The older woman nodded. “Good, good,” she said again, but Lyssa could see that her thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Lyssa stopped and took her mentor’s arm. “Deshanna, what is it? Nothing of what I just said is news to you, and you seem to be barely listening. What are you avoiding to talk about?”

The older woman sighed and turned to face Lyssa. “Maro came back,” she stated. Maro was a skilled young city elf who had come to them a few months back and had often served the clan as an informant. Lyssa read worry in Deshanna’s face and her brow furrowed.

“What did he find out?” she asked when the Keeper didn’t continue.

Quietly, Deshanna said, “The war has reached a climax. But the Divine has called a conclave to which both sides have agreed.”

Lyssa nodded slowly. The war between mages and templars had swept across the land, and not even the Dalish could ignore it. Both she and Deshanna had felt like they needed to keep tabs on what was happening, so every few weeks, when they passed a city or bigger town, they send someone to bring news.

“That is good, is it not? It might bring forth peace.”

“Or embolden the Templars even more if they are officially justified. They’ve ignored the Dalish mages so far but will they continue to do so if they win this war?”

Lyssa looked across the camp, worry written in her face. They were their Keepers - keepers of lore and history and learning but also safekeepers. Would they now bring something far worse than the sporadic attack about their clan? Deshanna took a deep breath, her face serious as she looked at her First.

“I want you to go to the conclave to see for yourself what is happening. Learn everything you can and bring the news back.”

Lyssa’s eyes snapped back to Deshanna. For a moment, she hoped the Keeper was kidding, but she knew that look only too well. Deshanna meant it. Suddenly, Lyssa felt cold, her fists clenching.

“No,” she flat-out refused, not even thinking about her answer.

The thought of going back into human company made every muscle in her body go rigid. It tied too closely into what she remembered of the prison that was the alienage, the casual cruelty she had too often been subjected to. Too many had died at the hands of humans, too many violently ripped from her - her brother, Meeran - but since Nelos’ death, she had refused to even go near a human settlement. And now Deshanna wanted her to go into human company - and not only human, but templar, too? No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t do it, she -

“Lyssa,” Deshanna interrupted her trail of thoughts and laid a hand on her arm. Her hand was warm and firm, but her eyes told Lyssa that she did not intend to relent. “I need your expertise in this. As a mage, you will be able to blend in more easily than anyone else. If our information is correct, they have opened the doors to all who would come, not just the leaders. They will not look twice at another mage going in, and with your skill of reading faces, you will be able to see treachery before it happens. This is the biggest threat that any of our clans have faced; we need to know what happens firsthand. And we can’t wait and hope some other clan sends someone or gathers information and shares it.”

“Don’t ask this of me,” Lyssa pleaded, a note of desperation in her voice, but Deshanna did not back down. Her gaze was stern but not unkind as she said, “Lyssa, you will be Keeper one day. For that, you need to be able to navigate around humans without showing them how you feel. You know how much we trade with them, how much we rely on them. You cannot evade them forever, lethallan.”

“But -“ she started, but Deshanna interrupted her. She put both her hands on Lyssa’s arms, pressing them in a gesture of comfort.

“You need to face these fears. Experience them. Feel them. Embrace them. Only then will you be able to let them go,” she implored her.

Lyssa shook her head. No, she didn’t want to hear it. Not now, not ever! “No,” she said, taking a step backwards. Deshanna’s hands fell to her sides as she opened her mouth to answer, but Lyssa just repeated, “No.” Then she turned around and left the Keeper where she stood.

She didn’t return to her fire for longer than it took to grab a coat and her staff, before heading out into the woods. The snow made it hard to venture far, but she didn’t plan on going further than their farthest wards. Over and over, the Keeper’s words turned in her head while she plowed through the snow, finding some elfroot here and felandaris there, adding a bit of willow bark to her finds. The familiar gestures of searching and collecting the herbs and other ingredients helped her stay calm while Deshanna’s words circled in her mind, over and over again.

It was true, she would be able to blend in, and since most humans wore their emotions on their face like a mask, she would also be able to see if someone spotted her or suspected her of something. But while she was sure there were other people in her clan better suited to do that kind of espionage, Lyssa knew that this was about more than getting information.   
This was about her leading the clan after Deshanna and whether she could do it or not.

“Here you are!”

Lyssa looked up from the blackthorn bush she had found that still bore a few berries to see Thia coming towards her.

Her friend wore her usual wide smile and unceremoniously threw her arms around Lyssa to hug her.

“The Keeper told me you went to brood in the woods again…”

“I’m not brooding!” Lyssa sputtered but the other woman ignored her and continued. 

“So I came to offer my company.” She looked at her friend with kind eyes. “You look like you need it.”

For a moment, Lyssa was at a loss for words, then she sighed, giving Thia a small smile. “I guess you’re right.”

Thia linked her arm with hers and grinned. “I know I am. So. Tell me what has you in such uproar that you just up and left Deshanna in the middle of a conversation.”

While Lyssa told her friend about the mission she was supposed to go on, the smile that normally barely left Thia’s face slowly died. She listened solemnly and without interruptions as they wandered through the woods. 

“I don’t want to go, Thia, I really don’t!” Lyssa exclaimed, her heart clenching at the thought. “The clan is the only family I have left, and I don’t want to leave you. And at the same time, I don’t want to disappoint you. All of you, not only Deshanna. I am supposed to become your Keeper, to be a person the clan can rely on for guidance and protection. How can I be that if I cannot even fulfill a simple espionage mission!”

Thia’s hand tightened on her arm. “There’s nothing simple about this mission, Lyssa,” she said calmly. “It wouldn’t be simple for any of us and not all of us have the same history with humans that you have.”

She nearly scoffed at that. “But that’s the other thing. My history with humans is not worse than yours. I’m not the only one who lost family to them. I don’t have the right to be that scared and -”

“But you’ve lived among them,” Thia interrupted. “You know them better than most of us. And you are a mage, that’s another thing. So stop talking about having the right to be scared. It’s got nothing to do with that. You know this just as well.” For a moment, she stopped and turned to look at her friend. “Nobody in the clan will blame you for not going, Lyssa. We are all very aware of what happens to Dalish mages that are caught outside the protection of the clan. We know that death is the kinder end.”

“And yet…” Lyssa’s voice trailed off and she stared into the forest around them. Darkness had fallen by now and the snow glittered in the light coming from the tip of her staff. Thia just raised her eyebrows, nudging her slightly when she didn’t continue immediately. Slowly, they started walking again, the crunch of fresh snow beneath their boots.

“This is about more than whether my fears are justified.” Lyssa sighed with a hint of exhaustion in her voice. “I need to be able to navigate between humans if I want to be Keeper. We need the trade with them, and so I need to be able to decide where to turn and when to trade and when to leave - without personal fears and distrust clouding my judgement.” Lyssa knew this to be true. The clans who refused to deal with humans were rare and small, and nearly all of them had to fall back on banditry because it was nearly impossible to gather all the resources needed for survival by themselves. Not when they always needed to be able to be on the move. And it was a Keeper’s job to oversee the trade and sometimes negotiate deals with majors or town elders. “If being Keeper was only about keeping our history and magic, I’d be fine, but it is so much more than that. You know this as well as I do.”

Her friend nodded. “And you want to be Keeper, yes?”

Lyssa didn’t have to think about this. “I do.”

Part of her was surprised that Thia would even ask this, and at the same time, she was grateful that her friend at least offered her the option to say ‘no’. But even if she were able to get out of the position, there was currently no one else who had her skills. The only other person who might take her place was a boy a good ten years younger than she. He was just growing into adulthood and had discovered his magic a bit over a year ago. He still had a lot of training ahead of him. So for the time being, there was just no alternative. The clan needed her. And she wanted to give them back for everything they had done for her. She loved everything about her work, about her role, and there was no doubt in her mind that she was to be Keeper. But to be able to fulfill this role, she could not disregard everything that pertained to dealing with outsiders.

“So what are you going to do?” Thia asked after a little pause. 

For the longest moment, Lyssa was silent before she murmured, “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” The statement was blunt, and when Lyssa looked up in astonishment, Thia grinned. “Come on, dalathin, you have already decided. You just have to admit it to yourself.”

As Lyssa looked at Thia’s familiar, warm smile, her throat closing with emotion. Her friend knew her too well, sometimes better than she knew herself. Despite the fear that still gripped her heart, she would go. She owed it not only to the clan but to herself. Finally, she nodded, unable to speak and pulled the other woman into a tight hug.

Thia wrapped her arms around her and murmured against her ear, “You’re going to be fine, Lyssa. And when you’re back, we’ll be there to welcome our Keeper-to-be.”

~~

They arrived back at camp just before dawn, nodding a silent greeting to the hunters on night’s watch. The camp was still mostly asleep. Thia gave her a last hug then went back to her own aravel to catch a bit of sleep, but Lyssa wasn’t ready to turn in yet. She wandered between the aravels, touching an adornment here, an old scar in the wood there. She breathed the mix of nearly burned-down fires, halla and herbs, of oil and wood and her heart swelled. This was the life she loved, the people she loved, her family. And now, her Keeper asked her to fulfill what she was trained for - to keep them safe. She touched the ring around her neck that Nelos had once given her, her heart heavy but steeled. How could she refuse?   
She sat down at Deshanna’s fire and brought the merely simmering embers back to life with a flick of her hand, waiting for the Keeper to wake while preparing breakfast. As the older woman came towards her just as the sun peeked over the horizon, sleep in her eyes, Lyssa gave her a tiny smile.

“When do I leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, the last chapter. Next - off to Haven ;)


End file.
